Kill me
by Utsukushiookami
Summary: It's been a while since Kenny's died, and Damien misses his favorite plaything.    Bad description, some slash, gore, rated M just to be safe.
1. Chills

_"Damien, sto-" The words died on Kenny's lips and were instead replaced by a scream as a jagged knife was twisted further into his chest, his dark-haired tormentor licking his lips as if he were savoring the sound of Kenny's screams, his movements relentless. Kenny felt as if he were being torn in half, the pain was so intense. He didn't understand why it hurt so much. He'd done it before. Too many times to count, in fact. T his experience was nothing new to him, and yet somehow Damien was making it unbearable. Each fast, hard thrust of his hips was excruciating to the point that the searing, biting pain of the cold steel in his chest was almost a welcome distraction._

_And yet...he couldn't stop the groans and grunts escaping his lips. Even though it was agonizing, Kenny couldn't help but find a sick sort of pleasure in the way that Damien watched him hungrily, as if he couldn't get enough. The way he would forcefully kiss him, the way he would bite his lip until it bled, then lap up the blood afterward. _What the hell was wrong with him?_ Kenny felt that liquid heat pooling somewhere beneath his stomach, that itching, tingling sensation building up everywhere else and he could tell by the quickened pace of Damien's hips that he was getting close as well. And then, with one last erratic jerk of his hips, he came inside Kenny, the sensation pulling Kenny into his own climax. Kenny was just barely aware of the low groan resonating in his throat._ _And then, as he was coming off his high, he felt another sensation._

_ A cold sensation filling his lungs. He struggled to breathe, each breath seeming to make his lungs fill up even more. The chill inside him was choking him, drowning him. His eyes snapped open and he looked down at Damien with wide, searching eyes. Still inside him, Damien answered the silent question with a slow, sadistic smile. His lips parted and moved, forming words that Kenny couldn't hear over the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears, but the words leaving his lips were unmistakable._

_"You're mine."_

Kenny awoke in a cold sweat, gasping for air, his shirt and sheets beneath him damp. Even though he was under two thick blankets, he could feel goosebumps all along his body. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to dispel the chills, as he continued to suck in air. He sat up, and a sudden, piercing ringing filled the early morning air with annoying persistence. Kenny reached over and turned off his alarm, his breathing beginning to even out. He swung his legs over the side of the bed as if to get up, but instead continued to sit, pulling the blankets around him as he shivered with the insistent chills, needing whatever comfort he could get. Another sleepless night. This would make two weeks of his haunting dreams. Kenny, of course knew why they were happening. That prick Damien had been trying to kill him for the better part of two months now, sending little things his way like drunk drivers or poisonous insects because he was bored and wanted someone to torment whom he could send back when he got bored with the torture. He'd told Kenny before that he was his favorite plaything. Apparently that statement was more true than Kenny had thought at the time.

Kenny mentally slapped himself for his lack of foresight. After about six weeks of trying and failing to kill Kenny himself, Damien finally found a clever little 'game'. He'd lure Kenny into sleep, then proceed to distress him with these sickening, horrific nightmares. And they were getting worse all the time. It seemed that Damien thought that if he tortured Kenny enough mentally, that he would eventually off himself and Damien would finally have his playmate. Kenny was determined to not give in. He could feel fear rising in him at the thought of dying again and being subjected to...him.

He became aware of his quickened breaths and tried to calm himself, forcing his breathing back to normal as he stood up, tossing the blankets aside. He went to his dresser, pulling out his clothes for the day; a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans that had definitely seen better days, worn, faded and with two large holes in the knees. He then went back to his bed, slipping on his shoes and picking his carelessly disgarded hoodie from his floor. He pulled it on, not bothering to zip it up, as he was just going to put his orange park on over it anyway. As he left his bedroom to use the bathroom, he couldn't quelch the uneasy feeling that he was being watched. He brushed it off as paranoia caused by his lack of sleep and rubbed the back of his neck again. As he picked up his toothbrush and ran it under the cold water from the tap, he looked up at the mirror. The reflection blearily looking back at him was unusually pale, making the skin where his lip, eyebrow and various ear piercings should be look starkly red. He had dark circles rimming his bloodshot eyes, his hair was damp, sticking to his forehead and neck from the drying sweat.

He gave himself an irritated look and squeezed some tooth paste onto his brush. Just as he was about to start brushing, he felt a cold breath near his ear. He shivered and quickly turned around, his eyes searching frantically, but there was nothing there. _Maybe it was air coming from the vent…._he rationalized, eyeing the vent above his head in scrutiny. He purposefully shrugged it off, as if giving his invisible watcher a show of irreverence, even though inside he felt cold. He brushed his teeth as normally as he could, used the facilities, then went to the kitchen, mentally breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of his brother eating breakfast.

Somehow, another presence in the room made him feel safe, even if it was only temporary.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**I decided I wanted to do a horror fic. I won't lie. I was inspired by RoxasDestati's beautifully written, scary as hell fic "A Sickening Frequency Distortion". Even though this stuff freaks me out, I couldn't stop reading. XD I've never written a horror before, so hopefully I can do the genre some justice in later chapters. XD**


	2. Bricks

"Dude, Kenny, you okay?" Kyle asked, turning to sit sideways in his seat so he could face the blonde, a concerned look on his face. The pen that had been threatening to drop finally slipped from Kenny's fatigued fingers. He rolled his eyes over to look at the redhead, his head following suit a few seconds later, the commands from his brain sluggish in reaching the intended targets.

"Huh?" He asked, for some reason not really understanding the question asked. Kyle nudged his shoulder with his hand.

"Are you okay?" He asked again slowly, looking more concerned. Kenny yawned and ran a hand down the middle of his face, as if trying to dispel the fatigue.

"Oh, yeah. I just had a hard time sleeping again last night." Kyle made an unconvinced noise and narrowed his eyes slightly as if searching for something in Kenny's face.

"This has been going on for two weeks, dude. Are you SURE there's not something going on at home?" Kenny offered him a tired grin.

"Nah, I've got so used to shit goin' on at home that I can sleep through it now. Iunno. It's probably just one of those stages where you can't go to sleep or somethin'." He mumbled, wondering if what he'd said made sense to Kyle, cos it sure as hell didn't make any sense to him. In fact, nothing had made sense all day. He was amazed he could even produce a semi-coherent thought. Were they coherent? Was he just rambling a bunch of nonsensical shit? He decided to give up trying to figure it out, and instead stared blankly at Kyle's hat, wondering why it was so green.

Kyle didn't look convinced, but didn't press it further, much to the blonde's relief. "Well, we're in math. I mean, you usually sleep through this class anyway. Why don't you take a nap or something?" He suggested, using his pencil to indicate Kenny's desk. Kenny shook his head slowly.

"Nah, I'm fine. Probably wouldn't be able to sleep anyway." Even as he said these words, his eyes burned with the need to sleep, his whole body screaming at him to just lay his head on the desk and get some much needed rest. He repeated _no, I can't. Something bad will happen._ Over and over again in his head, but in his sleep-fogged mind, he couldn't remember what it was. He wondered if maybe whatever sleep would bring would really be so bad. His mind was adamant, however, in keeping him awake. He turned his head back toward the projector at the front of the classroom, placing his chin on his untouched paper, staring blearily as the teacher rambled on about something having to do with numbers…numbers…letters….signs….

_It was dark. Kenny ran down a dark hallway, even as he sucked in air, his lungs never seemed to be filled. They felt cold, as if someone had poured ice into them. It hurt to breathe. Even though it hurt, he ran. Ran from whatever was following him. He could feel it. Always watching him, every hair on his body standing at attention from the hateful eyes. He could hear the breathing. The heavy, rattling breaths that seemed to never draw closer, and yet never retreat. They quickened with excitement from the hunt, the terrifying rattling worsening, causing Kenny to quicken his pace._

_Suddenly, Kenny broke free of the hallway into a poorly lit room….a basement. It was unfinished, save for one narrow wall that was made of bricks stacked from the floor to the ceiling. Split beams of wood, pieces of drywall and various tools lay abandoned, scattered as if left in a hurry. Kenny felt a chill run up his spine as he heard a low, raspy laugh, mocking him as it retreated into the shadows. He looked frantically for a way out, but saw none, except for the hallway he had come in from. He looked at the drywall on the floor and vaguely wondered why someone would build a basement out of flimsy drywall, but build one wall out of brick. It was as if…they wanted to hide something._

_Kenny's thoughts were interrupted by a low, tortured moan. His head jerked up, anxiously looking for the source of the sound. There was silence as the moan died, hanging in the air, then there was the sudden, frantic sound of muffled scratching against a thick surface. Kenny's head jerked toward the brick wall as the moaning started again, one chilling thought racing across his mind._

Something's trying to get out.

_Horrified, Kenny started to back away as the moaning began to turn into terrified yells, the scratching turning into dull thuds. Even though every fiber of Kenny's being told him to run, he found himself reaching down for a sledgehammer that lay beside him. He picked up the heavy tool, his legs working against his will to bring him to stand directly in front of the bricks. He fought , trying desperately to retract his arms as they lifted, bringing the sledgehammer up beside his head and bringing it down heavily upon the bricks with a thud, denting the area slightly. Kenny could feel the shock of the tool hitting the sturdy wall all through is limbs, his arms using a strength he didn't know he possessed. _

_Kenny's arms trembled as he tried desperately to stop them from lifting the sledgehammer up again. It was no use. It was as if someone much stronger were puppeteering his arms, forcing them to work against his will. He slammed the tool down against the brick again, harder than before, and a small section of the brick caved inward, revealing darkness._

_Kenny's arms continued their relentless motions, breaking in the wall where he knew something terrible lie in wait. It wasn't until his arms lifted for the last time that he realized that the yells and thuds had stopped. Fear gripped his chest in an iron grip as he brought the sledgehammer down on the last bit of remaining wall._

_His grip on the tool loosened until it slipped from his fingers, landing with a loud clang on the cement floor. As it fell to it's side, Kenny's arms hung limply at his sides, feeling like lead from the excursions. He stared into the blackness of the newly destroyed wall, his feet keeping him rooted to the spot._

_As he looked on, he saw one side of a face emerge from the shadows, the skin pale and rotting, the blue eyes lightened by blindness and decay. He wanted to yell, to run, but his body prevented him from doing either. Suddenly, the face turned toward the ground, a body following as it fell to the ground at Kenny's feet where it lay unmoving._

_Kenny stared in horror, recognizing the torn and bloody red flannel shirt, the ripped jeans and torn sneakers..._

_He reached down and turned the body over, a scream catching in his throat at the sight of the bloodsoaked blonde hair, the familar face laid open on the right side in what looked like claw marks starting from his mouth and ending just below his eye. _

_The head beneath him turned, the almost milky eyes focusing on him as the pale, decayed lips turned up in a cruel smile, the skin around the mouth corroding and snapping, blood flowing sluggishly down the face as the thread thin muscles underneath were revealed, trembling gruesomely with the effort to stay whole._

_As Kenny stared into his own face, his lungs seized up on him, held in a vice-like grip. He closed his eyes against his labored breathing. They snapped open again when he felt himself shoved backward, tripping over something that seemed as though it should be familiar. He looked down and realized that what he'd tripped over was a brick...and that he was now in the hole of the destroyed wall. He quickly scrambled up, but as he tried to step over the short remaining line of brick at his feet, his legs stopped as if they'd become glued to the floor. He watched, petrified as the bricks that lay scattered around him lifted, as if being picked up by an invisible force, and began to stack themselves one on top of the other._

_Kenny saw something move, and flicked his gaze to the side. He watched as the body laying just a few feet in front of him sat up in jerky motions, that cruel smile still in place as it focused its eyes on him again. It slowly rose to its feet, eyes never leaving Kenny's face as it slowly closed the distance between them, the bricks continuing their torture, almost to Kenny's shoulders now._

_The horrific parody opened its mouth, emitting a thick gurgling sound that made every inch of Kenny's body tingle in heightened fear._

_"Kennnyy..." It rasped thickly as the bricks reached his neck, the darkness around him growing as he began to shove at the bricks, his breath coming in short, scared gasps, his throat constricting with each scream he tried to omit._

_"Kenny..." It rasped again as the bricks covered his face, leaving him with the lasting impression of those dead, contemptuous eyes and that vindictive smile as the air became thick and heavy, leaving him to gasp for the oxygen that wouldn't fill his lungs._

_"Kennyyy..."_

"Kenny!" Kenny jerked awake, his head flying off the desk in frantic haste, quickly shoving the hand gripping is shoulder off as he pulled his shirt out to look at it, relief flooding through him as he realized it was the black shirt partially covered by his orange hoodie he'd put on that morning. He panted as if he'd just run a mile, feeling the sweat run down his neck as he turned his wide eyes to the hurt face of Kyle, his hand hanging in the air by Kenny's shoulder.

"J-Jesus Christ! Sorry, dude." He said to Kyle, forcing his voice to normality, even though his hands shook badly as he picked up his pen. Kyle's expression quickly changed from hurt to apprehensive as he watched his friend quickly pick up his stuff and stand, preparing to leave the now empty classroom. He saw students passing by the open door of the classroom, signifying the end of second period. As Kenny tried to walk, his legs shook and almost gave out on him. He held onto his desk for support, Kyle coming around to help him.

"Jesus, Kenny, maybe you should go home. You don't look too good..." He said fretfully as he helped Kenny out of the classroom by way of an arm around his shoulders. Kenny shook his head.

"I'm fine. Just tired." Home was the last place Kenny wanted to be. Home was where Damien could taunt him unbridled.


	3. Blind

By the middle of fourth period, Kenny was doing everything he could to keep himself awake. That short 'nap' he'd taken in math hadn't brought him any rest at all, and his eyes burned and itched with sleep. Even though he was sitting, his body felt heavy and sluggish. His mind was too slow to take any of the information in that they were receiving, not that he probably would have cared to remember anyway.

He sat up straight in his chair, a stark contrast to his normal position that allowed him to be almost laying his seat, his head resting against the metal chair. He jammed a capped pen into his hand, hoping the small amount of pain would help to keep him awake, admiring the small circles it made on his skin. He played with his lip ring, the stud in the bridge of his nose, he slapped his hand against his thigh in a tuneless rhythm...all of these worked for a short while, then he would grow tired again. And it made him nervous that Kyle had been watching him the whole period, as if he were going to break any moment.

He refused to acknowledge Kyle, because he knew that the second he turned to look at his friend, he would be asked if he was okay and be told to go home and rest. He stared at the pen on his desk, wondering vaguely if it held the answers to the end of his torture. He decided it didn't, and instead focused on what he could do to ensure that he didn't fall asleep tonight. After the nightmare he'd had in math, sleeping for extended periods of time was out of the question. Not that he'd been sleeping much anyway.

He was simultaneously relieved and terrified when the bell rang a half hour later, signifying the end of the day. He gathered his things and stood up, Kyle waiting for him as Cartman and Stan started out the door, Cartman saying something to Stan that had the smaller male punching him soundly in the arm. It didn't seem to affect Cartman however. He just shrugged it off and cast a glance over his shoulder at Kenny, studying him with one apathetic glimpse before he turned back.

Kenny tipped his head to the side as he and Kyle followed. It was strange; contrary to popular belief, Cartman was pretty intelligent, and he was certainly perceptive. Kenny knew that that one glance meant that Cartman had figured out the gist of what was troubling Kenny, and while he may possibly be concerned about him, he wasn't going to help him. He either didn't know how, or he figured Kenny could handle it on his own. What was strange was that Kenny considered him his best friend, when Kyle expressed much more concern about his well-being, and was generally happy to help.

Kenny couldn't help but wonder, though, if Cartman wouldn't be such a bad person to have around during something like this.

...

Kenny stumbled into his room and sat on his bed exhaustedly, running a hand through his hair. His body was shouting at him to sleep, but again he refused. He couldn't go to sleep, not with Damien lurking in his subconscious, waiting to strike. As he tried to shake his weariness by stretching, his brother came into his room, looking down at his phone.

"Hey, Ken, Ma and Dad went to Wendover again. I don't know how long they..." He trailed off, looking up at Kenny, noticing that he was pale and shaking minutely. He crossed the room to his brother, sticking his phone in his pocket, his expression concerned.

"Jesus, Ken, what happened? You definitely didn't look this bad this morning. You sick or something?" He asked, pushing Kenny's bangs up his forehead so he could rest his hand against it. Kenny shook his head to dislodge Kevin's hand, giving him a half-hearted glare.

"Kevin, I'm fine. Nothing's wrong. I just didn't eat much today is all." He lied, trying to dispel his brother's worry. Since the two of them had grown up with their parents gone for the most part, Kevin had taken over the parenting role, mothering and taking care of him as best he could until he turned 14 and got a job at the grocery store by lying and telling them he was older. Once he started working, he made sure that Kenny had everything he needed. Meals, medicine, clothes...everything that their parents should have provided. And while Kenny was immensely grateful to his brother, and normally didn't mind the mothering, he was irritable from the constant battle between his brain and his body. Today, Kevin was just annoying him.

"Well, I'll fix that right now. What do you want for dinner?" Kevin asked, straightening up.

"I don't fuckin' care." Kenny muttered, hoping his brother would just figure something out and get the hell out of his room so he could brood in peace. Kevin gave him a look.

"Fine." He said, before turning to leave. As soon as he left the room, Kenny shut his door then went back to his bed. Even though he was tired and pissy, he did feel bad for snapping at Kevin. But he wasn't going to be a fucking pussy about it and get all emotional. Kevin would get over it soon anyway.

Kenny reached under his mattress and pulled out the latest porn mag he'd borrowed from Stan and sat up against the wall at the head of his bed, flipping the magazine open to the first page.

_Kenny couldn't see. His eyes were open, but he couldn't see. He felt something tight against his wrists, wrenching his arms back and up in an uncomfortable position. He tested his restraints and heard a gentle creaking sound; rope. The ground beneath his knees felt cold and damp, and there was the steady echo of dripping water somewhere in front of him. He strained his ears for any semblance of a sound that would indicate where he was._

_He heard a shuffling noise, then the quiet tapping of a soft soled shoe on a hard surface. He jerked his head in the direction he'd heard the noise, desperately trying to stay the fear that accompanied blindness._

_"Hey, Kenny." Came a familiar, mocking voice directly in front of him. The fear heightened as a hand found it's way under his chin, jerking his face up. Kenny began imagining all the horrible things that Damien could do with him completely at his mercy and tried to jerk his head away. Damien tightened his grip on Kenny's face, letting out a small, sardonic chuckle. Kenny shut his eyes, preparing for the pain that was sure to come._

_He was _not_ however, prepared for the pair of lips he suddenly felt on his own, and certainly not for the gentle way they caressed his. His eyes opened in surprise before he remembered that it didn't matter. Damien's hand moved from Kenny's chin to his jaw, his fingers splayed against his face in almost a...gentle gesture. Something felt completely wrong about this. There was nothing gentle about Damien._

_As he felt Damien's tongue smoothly part his lips, anger rose in him, overruling the fear as he bit down hard on the invading muscle. Damien pulled back with an almost derisive laugh, his hand still on Kenny's face._

_"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" Kenny spat, glaring angrily in Damien's direction. This time, Damien actually laughed._

_"Giving you a warning." He stated, rubbing his thumb over Kenny's jaw affectionately. Kenny growled and jerked his head out of Damien's grasp, realizing now that Damien was toying with him._

_"What warning?" Kenny ground out. He heard a soft rustling sound, and felt Damien's hot breath on his ear._

_"I'm coming for you." Kenny felt a slow chill creep up his spine at the words, and at the same time, he felt a searing, burning pain on his left arm, as if someone were taking a red hot knife and carving it into his skin. His scream echoed in his prison, fading into nothingness along with Damien's cruel laughter._

Kenny's eyes snapped open, terrified momentarily as he stared into darkness until a flash of light caught his peripheral vision. He quickly turned his head to the source, realizing that his alarm clock was blinking _12:00_ at him. He breathed a sigh of relief, and shakily got out of his bed, making his way to the door and feeling along the wall for the light switch. He flipped it up, bathing his room in comforting light.

"Fuck..." He panted, leaning against his wall.

"_I'm coming for you..." _Damien's last words flashed across his mind, and he suddenly remembered his arm. He pulled the sleeve of his hoodie up and his breath caught in his throat. In thin, precise letters was the word "_Coming._" The skin around the letters was red, the wound still bleeding faintly.

Kenny sank to the floor as he realized what this meant; Damien was no longer restricting himself to Kenny's dreams. He was going to haunt him in the waking hours as well.


	4. Screams

Kenny waited until the next morning to hunt down whatever his brother had made for dinner, not daring to venture through the dark house on his own after his terrifying epiphany last night. He tiredly stumbled through the house to the kitchen, finding his brother already at the table, eating breakfast. Kevin looked irritated, but the irritation quickly changed to concern when he got a good look at Kenny. He stood up and went over to his brother, his obvious worry growing with each step he took.

"Kenny, why didn't you eat last night? You're really pale. You need to eat something." Kenny mentally chuckled bitterly, thinking that Kevin didn't even know the half of it. True, he hadn't been eating as much due to the depression and paranoia that came with the territory of forced insomnia, but there was a much more obvious reason why he was pale and gaunt. When he didn't respond, staring blearily at his brother, Kevin took Kenny by the shoulders and forcibly sat him down in a chair.

"Here, you sit and I'll warm up dinner. You _will_ eat it." He added sternly, turning briefly from the open fridge door to narrow his eyes at Kenny. Kenny just waved his comment off, too exhausted and weak at the moment to put forth the energy needed to talk. Seeming only slightly placated, Kevin returned to the fridge, pulling out a paper plate with one of those already made meals where all you had to do was make whatever meat went in it at home. Looked like some kind of rice and chicken. Kenny slumped exhaustedly in his chair as Kevin placed the plate in the microwave, closing his eyes in a fatigue that had become all too familiar. While the food heated up, Kevin went back to the table and moved a chair, twirling it around so that when he sat, he was straddling the back of it. He placed his arms over the top and watched Kenny. Sensing the pregnant silence and a pair of eyes on him, Kenny cracked one of his own open.

"What?" He grunted at Kevin.

"What's going on with you, Ken? You haven't been sleeping or eating, you look like shit. Sometimes in the middle of the night I can hear you screaming in your sleep." Kenny jerked upright at his brother's words, his eyes widening in surprise and fear at the thought that he'd been screaming in his sleep. Somehow that fact shattered his hope that what was happening in his dreams were just dreams. Somehow the fact that he was screaming in his sleep connected the dreams to reality.

"You...what are you talking about? I haven't been-"

"Yes you have, Kenny." His brother cut in sternly. The microwave dinged, but Kevin made no move to get up. "What's going on?" Kenny leveled a glare at him, irritated that his brother wouldn't drop it. He knew Kevin was concerned, but he hated being weak, and talking about it would mean just that.

"Nothing." He said, getting up to get his food out of the microwave. He grabbed a fork, slamming the drawer shut before heading to his room, leaving his brother to watch him leave, a bit hurt that Kenny was shutting him out.

xxxxxxxxxx

For days, nothing happened. And while Kenny welcomed the nights of uninterrupted sleep, somehow the lack of...anything from Damien made him more paranoid. It was comforting, in a messed up way, to know exactly when Damien would strike. Now that knowledge that Damien could strike anytime put Kenny on edge.

By the 7th day, Kenny was so high strung that whenever someone made a sudden motion or noise, he'd jump and whirl around, expecting to see Damien, but would end up staring into the confused or surprised face of the other person. He also noticed that Kyle had been watching him a lot more. During classes, he would often watch Kenny, his eyes narrowed slightly in concern or concentration, his finger tapping gently against the side of his face as he rested his head in his hand, as if he were searching Kenny for something. Stan, of course was oblivious, and as expected, Cartman exuded apathy.

It wasn't until around 3rd period that Kenny remembered his ipod. In a poor attempt to calm his nerves, he pulled it out and put his headphones in. After a few tracks from the Offspring, Kenny began to feel calmer. He'd loved the Offspring since he was a little kid, having been introduced [rather appropriately now that he thought about it] by his Dad, and they always had a sort of calming effect on him. By the time Hey oh by the ReadyGoes was playing, he was even slouching in his chair and tapping a pencil against his leg to the beat.A few seconds into the song, he noticed an annoying buzzing sound. It almost sounded as if his headphones where going out on him. He sat up slightly, his brow knit in annoyance and concentration as he turned the volume up on his ipod, listening hard to the buzzing sound.

The song was so loud now that the drumline and bass were throbbing in his ear, but he could still just barely hear the underlying noise. He turned the volume up further, ignoring the somewhat annoyed glanced he was getting from a few of the other kids sitting closest to him as he stopped to listen, the buzzing noise slowly grew louder until Kenny could clearly make out the sound. A mix of confusion and fear crossed his face as a slow chill crept along his back; they were screams. They grew louder, horrifying, terrified, tortured screams. Some of them sounded gurgled, as if they were being drowned in their own blood. It was as if Kenny were hearing some sort of sick reenactment of a gruesome death. The screams were deafening now, rising in volume of their own accord. Kenny could feel the sounds resonating and throbbing in his head. His hand rose, trembling, to pull the buds out of his ears, but instead, he found them pressing to his ears as you would to muffle a loud noise, but instead of drowning out the sounds, it pressed the buds closer to his eardrum, making the sounds even louder.

He felt his mouth open, felt his throat vibrate with the scream that he couldn't hear over the ones resonating in his ears. He managed to pull a hand away and reach down to his ipod, ignoring the stares he was getting from his peers as he pressed his thumb desperately to the power button, but that only seemed to make the screams worse, more horrified as if unimaginable pain had been inflicted. Without a second thought, Kenny ran from the classroom, somehow unable to rip the headphones from his ears. The class watched him leave, some of them whispering to each other as they stared at the doorway through which Kenny had just shared a concerned glance with Stan before they both quickly got up and hurried after Kenny. Cartman watched them go, unconcerned as he remained in his seat. Out of his peripheral vision, Cartman saw Craig turned to the doorway as well, a similarly indifferent expression on his face. Cartman wondered vaguely why Craig would even care to watch the doorway. As far as Cartman knew, Craig cared about as much about anyone other than himself as he did.

Ten minutes later, Kyle and Stan found Kenny sitting on the back steps of the school, his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around them as he gently rocked. His ipod lay a few feet in front of him on the ground, broken and wet from the slow drizzle of rain coming down around them, the headphones busted as well, looking as if Kenny had thrown them to the ground and stomped on then. He didn't look up as he heard his friends walk up to him and sit down on either side of him. There was a moment of silence in which Kyle and Stan shared another nervous glance, deciding who should be the one to speak first.

"Ken? What's going on?" Kyle asked finally, wrapping an arm around his friend's shoulder. Kenny jumped slightly, turning his head a fraction in acknowledgement before turning it back.

"Nothing. " He grunted, too distressed to even attempt to think of a good lie. Stan practically growled at his statement, grabbing the blonde by his shoulders and turning him to face him.

"It's not fucking nothing! You just ran out of the classroom screaming! Don't sit there and tell me it's fucking nothing!" Kenny looked expressionlessly into the angry face of his friend and realized that his misplaced anger was hiding fear. He was scared for Kenny. He didn't know what was happening and he was worried about his friend. Kenny knew that Kyle was worried as well, but he was more upfront about it. He sighed and pried Stan's hands off of him, then faced forward again, running his hand through his hair as he debated whether or not he should tell them and how much. He sighed and stared down at his broken ipod as he tried to find the courage to tell them what's been happening to him, and hope to god that they didn't think he was crazy like he was certain most of the school did now.

"You know…how I die?" He asked hesitantly. Both Kyle and Stan simply nodded slowly, waiting for the blonde to continue. "Well…each time I die, I go to hell right? And every time I do, he's there. Waiting for me. Waiting for me to be his little fuck buddy that he can torture and send back when he gets fucking bored with me. And now I guess he's decided that he misses me and has been haunting me, trying to get me to kill myself, I guess." He didn't even have to specify who "he" was. He knew that Stan and Kyle knew exactly who he was talking about. There was a collective intake of breath from the other two before Stan spoke again.

"Jesus, Kenny." He said, his eyes flickering to the ipod. Kenny followed his gaze and their air hung thick with the unasked question.

"Screams. I heard screams." Kenny said monotonously. Kyle inhaled a sharp intake of breath, while Stan's eyes widened slightly.

"Why haven't you told us?" Kyle asked, worry and alarm evident in his voice. Kenny laughed bitterly.

"Which part? That I'm the antichrist's fuck toy, or that he's been haunting my dreams and driving me insane?" Kyle wanted to roll his eyes, but he refrained, glad that Kenny still had a bit of humor in him, despite what had been happening to him.

"Both." He replied, suddenly a thought struck him. "So…that's why you haven't been sleeping lately?" Kenny looked at him, a troubled look in his eyes as he simply nodded before turning back to stare at the ipod again. Kyle looked at Stan who gave him a helpless look.

"Is…..what can we do to help?" Stan asked, placing a hand on Kenny's shoulder. Kenny shook his head, perhaps a bit sadly.

"I don't know, man. I don't know if there's anything you _can_ do." He stood up shakily and turned to face his friends. Both were surprised by the disturbed look on their normally carefree friend's face. "He's coming for me. In the real world, this time." He pointed at the ipod on the ground. "That was a warning. God, who…who knows what he'll do to me next." Kenny sounded really shaken, and his friends knew that there was more he wasn't telling them, but they didn't press him further. Instead they stood up with him, Stan shoving his hands in the pockets of his letterman jacket, Kyle taking a step toward their friend.

"So what are you going to do now?" He asked, jerking his head toward the school….and all the kids who undoubtedly thought Kenny was a nut job. Kenny shrugged.

"I ain't fuckin' going back in there, that's for sure." He ran a hand through his hair again, desperately wishing that he'd brought his damned cigs to school today. "Guess I'll just go home." He really didn't want to go home because Kevin was at work and the last thing he wanted was to be alone right now. Observant as ever, Kyle detected the uncertainty in his voice.

"Is your brother home?" He asked in a gentle tone. Kenny shook his head gravely.

"No." He replied.

"Well…come to my house, then." Kyle said, smiling warmly. Both Kenny and Stan gave him a confused and shocked look before Kenny's turned into a small grin, a parody of his usual wide, joking one.

"Isn't there some law against overachievers like you ditching school?" He asked, trying to lighten the mood and calm his shaken nerves by attempting a joke. Kyle rolled his eyes.

"I can do whatever I want. I had all the credits I needed at the beginning of the year. I only stayed in school to hang out with you guys. And cos I didn't want to be stuck at home with nothing to do." Kenny snorted. That was so Kyle. Barely started their senior year and he was already done with school. Stan kicked idly at one of the headphones and shrugged.

"Might as well come too." He said. He tried to make it sound as if he would just be bored without them there, but they both knew he was just as concerned as Kyle. Kenny nodded.

"I'll go get my car and meet you there." He said, shoving his hands through the large pocket at the front of his orange hoodie. Stan and Kyle nodded, heading off to the parking lot on the north side of the school. Kenny watched them for a moment before heading off in the opposite direction, to the smaller lot where he'd parked. He walked guardedly, his shoulders hunched slightly as his eyes darted from side to side, looking for anything that could be a sign of his tormentor. He made it to his car without incident, but that fact did little to calm his nerves as he got in and turned the car on.

_You're in the Death Club, melt so strange_

_You're in the Death Club, melt so strange_

_We're in the Death Club_

_All free to sin away_

_Take your own life_

_Membership is pain_

_We're in the Death Club_

_All free to sin away_

_We're in the Death club_

_Take your own life_

_Silent, damned and strange_

Kenny felt a shiver run up his spine as the words blasted from his radio, eerily fitting and heightening his fear as he tore out of the parking lot.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

**Sorry it took so long. I had a LOT of birthdays this month. And then when I finally finish it, FF was having issues. Anyway, hopefully the next chapter will be better. XD Also, sorry for some of the sentences running together. FF was having MAJOR issues when I first uploaded this, and I SWEAR i went in and fixed those mistakes, but apparently not. Let's hope they stay fixed this time.**


	5. Possession

Kenny arrived to find Kyle's red Chrystler 300 already parked in his driveway. He didn't see Stan's old mustang, so he assumed he'd gotten a ride with Kyle that morning. He parked behind Kyle and shut his car off, then leaned forward, resting his forehead momentarily on the steering wheel in front of him, between his hands as he gathered his thoughts. After a few moments, he got out, for once locking his car and walked into Kyle's house, not bothering to knock.

"Hello?" He called out.

"Upstairs." Came Kyle's voice from his room. Kenny trudged up the stairs, the sounds of a video game and swearing getting louder as he neared Kyle's room. He walked in and saw Kyle and Stan playing Dead Space 2 on the floor, Stan with a stupid grin on his face. When Kenny turned to look at the screen, he saw that Stan was playing as a Necromorph and kicking Kyle's ass. He smirked as he went and sat between them on the bed. After about ten more minutes of getting killed, Kyle finally got fed up and tossed his controller to Kenny.

"Here." He said, frustrated. Kenny grinned and switched places with Kyle.

"I'm gonna kick your ass, Marsh." He said, starting the game again. Stan laughed good naturedly.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure you are. I'm gonna rip your ass apart, McCormick." Kenny grinned as he started playing. After a few minutes, Stan _literally_ ripped his character apart. Kenny stared at the screen for a second.

"What the hell? No way, man!" He glanced at Stan's grinning face to the screen again before starting a new game, a determined look on his face. Once again, it only took Stan a few minutes to kill him.

Kenny gave him an indignant look. "There's no WAY you're this good."

Stan grinned wider. "Jealous of my skills, Kenny? I can teach you if you wan..." Stan trailed off, hearing what sounded like heavy, rattling breathing coming from the television screen. He and Kenny both turned back to the screen, their eyes widening.

"What the hell, Stan!" Kyle said, pointing at the screen; on the other side of the glass was the necromorph...staring straight at them, it's unsightly mouth widened in a manic grin. Blood, seemingly from Kenny's character, was dripping from it's mouth, hitting the ground of the abandoned spaceship with faintly audible _plops_.

Kenny looked from Stan to the screen, his eyes darting back and forth. "Dude, Stan, how the FUCK are you doing that?"

"It's not me!" He said, frantically pushing buttons on the controller, trying to get it to stop whatever it was doing. "The controller must be stuck or something." No matter what buttons Stan pushed, or how hard he pushed them, the monster didn't budge. It continued to just stare at them from behind the glass, it's head lowered, blood dripping from it's mouth, it's deep, rattling breath echoing around the ship that was eerily devoid of any other sound.

Kenny's eyes widened impossibly as he realized what this was. It was Damien.

In that instant, the necromorph let out a piercing, inhuman scream and lunged at the screen, it's mouth open to an impossible degree as it continued the horrific screams, it's head jerking as if it was desperately trying to shake something out of its head as it clawed at the glass with audible _tinks_ and tinny scratching, leaving blood streaks across the screen as it desperately tried to claw its way out.

Kenny and Stan jumped back onto the bed, almost landing on Kyle in their haste. Kenny began looking around frantically for a weapon, fully prepared to bash the thing's head in or cut it off if it managed to make it out of the tv. He found Kyle's old baseball bat next to his bed and grabbed it. Not very affective against a necromorph, but maybe he could manage to whack it's head off with it.

Kyle laughed nervously when Kenny rejoined them on the bed. "D-dude, you're being ridiculous. It's just a glitch or something. No need to get so freaked out."

Just as Kenny was about to open his mouth to say something, the "scar" on his arm began to burn. He hissed in pain and dropped the bat, gripping his arm. He was surprised to see spots of blood soaking through his hoody when he lifted his hand again, and wrenched the sleeve up, revealing that the wound on his arm was fresh again, steadily trickling blood so that the word _coming_ stood red and stark against his unusually pale skin.

"Dude, what the fuck is that on your arm?" Kyle asked as Stan stared at the bleeding wound, his eyes wide.

"It's a warning." Kenny replied. The second the words left his lips, the necromorph stopped trying to free itself and instead stood, leaving them with a demented smile, baring its blood-stained teeth before the screen went black. The boys stared at the screen for a few seconds, not daring to leave the perceived safety of the bed.

" Well, I guess that's..." The words died on Kyle's lips as the words _I found you _slowly appeared on the screen in mocking red letters followed by a laugh rife with taunting mirth that seemed to echo through the room, sending shivers down their spines. Suddenly, the screen came back on, having somehow gotten to the options menu. Stan got up, turned off the PS3, and switched it back to television, if not just to fill the uncomfortable silence with something familiar and 'safe'. Kenny sat on the bed, the bat still held loosely in his hand, his knees drawn up to his chest and his other arm wrapped around them as he thought.

Kyle saw the troubled look on his friend's face and reached over to soothingly rub his back, a bit shaken himself. Kenny looked up at him with a haunted look that he'd never seen his friend bear before and it made him nervous. If perverted, laid back Kenny was this worried about something, then it was worse than he thought.

**Sorry for the long wait [assuming any of you are actually WAITING XD] Had bad writer's block for a while. DX**


	6. Sleep

"So, what are we going to do about this?" Stan spoke up from where he was leaning against the short table that housed Kyle's t.v and various game consoles. Kenny and Kyle both looked up at him, mirrored expressions of confusion etched on their faces. Kenny sighed, then looked down at his arm ,which was still bleeding a little.

"I don't know. I've been trying to figure that out for weeks. He hasn't ACTUALLY shown himself to me yet. He's only shown himself in my dreams."

"So...he's just tormenting you?" Kyle asked, his brow knit in concentration as he intrinsically tried to figure out _why_ Damien wouldn't have physically shown himself to Kenny yet. Kenny just shrugged, knowing that that's exactly what Damien was doing, but suspecting there was some other ulterior motive for it than that he simply just wanted Kenny to "visit" him again. There's no way he would be going to this much trouble to procure Kenny if there wasn't something else there. Kenny got up from the bed, leaning the bat against the edge.

"I gotta piss." He muttered, walking over to the door. He did a quick scan of the hallway before walking to the bathroom located between Kyle and Ike's rooms. He shut the door then walked over to the mirror, bracing his hands on the sink as he stared at his pale reflection in the mirror. His eyes looked bloodshot and red and his skin was getting paler by the moment. And his hair looked...black? What the fuck? He brought a part of his bangs down over his eyes. Nope, still blonde. And the hand in front of his face was as tan as it ever was. But as he returned his attention to the mirror, he saw that his hair in the reflection was changing, the black spreading from the roots down, his eyes becoming redder, the color compressing into the iris, and his skin was pale as a sheet now. His face was changing as well, his nose becoming longer and slimmer, and his jaw becoming less defined. Suddenly, he realized what was happening. He narrowed his eyes, the reflection _not _following suit.

"You sonovabitch." Kenny growled at the mirror. The face in the mirror offered a twisted smile.

"What? You don't like my games?" Damien asked, an unsuccessful attempt at innocence, Kenny noted.

"Fuck you, man." Kenny growled. Damien laughed, a raw, rough sound that coupled his relatively deep voice with the sound of barbed wire grating against a sheet of metal. Kenny cringed slightly. He hated Damien's laugh.

"That'll come when you decide to visit me." Damien said, the corner of his mouth twisting upward slightly. Kenny rolled his eyes at the 'joke'.

"Yeah, that ain't gonna happen." Kenny said dryly. Damien' simply smiled perversely at his words, which proved mildly alarming to Kenny.

"You'll come to me sooner or later, Kenny. Though I prefer sooner." Damien lifted his hands, his smile turning mocking and contemptuous as he stopped them just under his face. Kenny felt his arms being pulled up by some impalpable source, his hands resting in the same position as Damien's in the air in front of his face. Kenny looked at Damien's reflection, confused as to his intentions. Damien's eyes glittered maliciously, and in that instant, Kenny understood. He desperately tried to pull his hands away as Damien closed his hands around his neck, forcing Kenny's to do the same. Kenny could feel his fingers jerking and shaking against his neck from his failing efforts to regain control.

Even as he tried to pull them away, he felt them applying steady pressure, his thumb pressing against his windpipe, making his panicked swallowing become uncomfortable. He slammed his head against the door, hoping that the noise would alert Stan and Kyle that something was wrong. Damien smiled twistedly at that.

"Aw, you don't want to play anymore?" He asked almost condescendingly, jerking his head forward, causing Kenny's to do the same, away from the wall as his fingers gripped tighter around his throat. Kenny gasped for air and tried to call out for help, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper. Black dots began to swim in front of his eyes, and he knew he was going to black out soon. Shakily, he tried standing up, realizing that Damien couldn't control his legs, and wobbled over to the door. In desperation, he began kicking it as hard as he could, defying his weakening body.

Damien snarled at that and forced Kenny's head forward, driving his head into the door hard. Even through Kenny's darkening sight, he saw a trickle of blood make it's way from his forehead down the side of his face. He heard Damien let out a short laugh, and turned his head slightly back to the mirror. Damien smirked at him.

"Hm. Seems like I'll have to wait a little longer. I'll visit you again later, Kenny." He said in a tone that denoted a wicked intent. Kenny watched as Damien faded from the mirror, his iniquitous eyes and twisted smile the last things to go, leaving a lasting imprint as he heard footsteps rapidly approaching the door. His hands loosened their grip and fell away from his throat as the door swung open wildly. Stan and Kyle rushed over to Kenny as he coughed and wheezed, rubbing his abused throat.

"What the hell happened, Kenny?" Kyle asked as he rested a hand on Kenny's back, watching him in alarm while Stan crouched down on the other side of him.

"That...stupid motherfucker...tried to...get me to strangle...myself..." He managed gruffly through his hacking as he massaged his throat.

Stan looked at Kyle. "Jesus Christ."

"Right, you're spending the night here. Where we can keep an eye on you." Kyle said, he and Stan helping Kenny to his feet. Kenny said nothing as he readily and gratefully accepted the offer. "We'll call Cartman for reinforcements. He may be good for something like this." Kenny simply nodded as Kyle pulled out his cell phone and dialed Cartman's number. The house was quiet enough that Kenny and Stan could hear both sides of the conversation when Cartman picked up.

"What the fuck do you want, Jew boy?" Cartman asked in a bored tone as he picked up.

"Fuck you, Fatass. Come over to my house tonight." Kyle said, rolling his eyes as the redundant bickering started.

"Why the hell would I want to do that?" He asked in the same tone.

"Cos I know that otherwise, you're just gonna sit on your fat ass and watch t.v all night. Besides, you'll get free food here."

"...Fine. If you want me to come over so damned bad, I'll come over." Kyle smirked; same old Fatass. He was always able to bribe him with food. "Be there in ten."

"Okay. Bye." He hung up the phone, then helped Stan help Kenny to his room.

"You sure it's okay if I spend the night?" Kenny asked, worried that Damien would make an appearance and go after his friends as well.

"Like I give a damn what my parents say. Anyway, they're with Ike at some...thing up in Vancouver." Kyle said, misinterpreting Kenny's worry.

"Okay." Kenny said a bit hesitantly.

Twenty minutes later, Kyle heard the irritated knocking that heralded the arrival of Cartman. He got up from the couch where they were watching t.v, and answered the door.

"Dude, what the fuck took you so long? You live down the street from me!" Kyle said, irritated but amused at Cartman's sweaty, winded state as he huffed and wheezed on his doorstep, holding onto the doorframe for support in what Kyle was sure were exacerbated theatrics.

"My…fuckin'…truck broke down….and I had…to walk!" Cartman panted, glaring heavily at Kyle.

"…..You live down the street from me." Kyle repeated, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

"Shut up….you damn jew!" Cartman panted, narrowing his gaze further as he straightened up. Kyle rolled his eyes, but stepped aside for Cartman to enter, shutting the door behind him. Still panting, Cartman carelessly tossed his backpack by the couch, and took Kyle's vacated seat.

"Dude, what the hell! I was sitting there." Kyle said upon turning around and finding his seat taken. Cartman turned his head slightly to look at him.

"Well, now you ain't." He replied curtly with a look that indicated he wasn't budging.

"Goddamnit. Fuckin' fatass." Kyle groused as he begrudgingly took a seat on the floor in front of Stan.

"What are you fags playing?" Cartman asked Stan and Kenny who each had an x-box controller in their hands.

"Left 4 Dead 2." They replied in unison as they gunned their way through a horde of zombies on the split screen. Of course, after what had just happened, it seemed ludicrous to be playing video games, but if anything, the boys had become adept at forcing themselves into comforting normalcy. That was how they coped. By "being normal."

"Gay." Cartman replied, looking bored.

"_You're_ gay." Stan quipped absently.

"Great comeback, assmaster." Stan grinned at that as he and Kenny continued playing. Kenny was surprised he wasn't more weary than he was. But he supposed it was that same sense of comfort that always washed over you when you were with your friends. That feeling of 'Nothing bad can happen because I'm with my friends, having fun.' The feeling of false security. The forced normalcy. He didn't want to dwell to much on it at the moment, however, and conceded to just having fun while he could. To forgetting.

Eventually, after hours of gaming, laughing, and insults followed by playful punches and more laughter, the boys tired and decided to go to Kyle's room to sleep, feeling that a more closed space would be better to sleep in, in case Damien decided to make another appearance. Kenny, Cartman and Stan all set up their 'beds' on the floor, Kyle of course, sleeping in his _actual_ bed. Kenny, understandably exhausted from the days events, was unwillingly out almost before his head hit the pillow.

_Kenny awoke and cracked one eye open. He was laying on his back on a strangely comfortable and familiar bed. He knew it wasn't his because his bed had a deep indent in the middle from all the years of sleeping in it. Plus, it had metal springs. As far as he could tell, this bed had no springs. And…the smell was tantalizingly familiar. It smelled like old spice or ax, but mustier…_

_He opened his eyes and slowly scanned the room. The musty concrete floor…light red walls decorated with dark, satirical posters and paintings….the large window in the middle of the wall the bed rested against that somehow lit the room significantly, even though it was underground in…._Hell._ Suddenly, he felt a weight on the bed, and opened both eyes, immediately narrowing them at the person sitting at his feet._

"_Damnit, Damien! Leave me the fuck alone." He growled at his insistent tormentor. Damien grinned._

"_Now now, Kenny, you know I can't do that. You're just too much fun." Kenny growled again. He started to get up, but felt a painful pulling on his wrists. Damien grinned wider and lifted his head toward Kenny's wrists. Kenny looked up and saw that his wrists were tied to the bedpost. He began struggling against the restraints, but as he struggled, they grew more taught against his skin until he felt tiny pinpricks of blood begin to form and roll down his arms. Damien shivered almost noticeably with excitement at the sight of the blood._

"_Hmm. I like that look on you. It's sexy." Damien commented as he moved up the bed and leaned over Kenny, tracing the tip of his tongue up his wrist to lick the stain there. Kenny shuddered slightly in disgust. Not at the action, but the fact that he was becoming somewhat aroused by it. A familiar song began to play in the back of his head as Damien licked every last drop of blood from his wrist, but he couldn't place it. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to distract him from the sadistic boy that was now leaning across his body to lave at his other wrist._

"_Damien, get off." Kenny demanded, glaring at him the best he could. Damien gave him a sideways smirk ,his tongue darting out to lick the last pinprick of blood before he sat back, straddling Kenny's torso, grinning deviously._

"_But it took so long to get you here. I want to have some fun first. It seems like _forever _since we've played together." He licked his lips, then leaned down and swiftly claimed Kenny's. Kenny growled angrily against his mouth, and Damien took that as an invitation. He bit down harshly on Kenny's lower lip, then slipped his tongue into his mouth, uncaring if Kenny reciprocated or not, simply enjoying how much Kenny was loathing Damien and himself at the moment. Even though Kenny was tremendously angry with Damien, his body couldn't help but react as he touched his tongue to Damien's, he suddenly realized what song had been buzzing around the back of his head._

If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?

If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?

So many things that I would do if I had my way with you

_Disturbingly appropriate, he thought as he felt Damien smirk arrogantly against his lips. He groaned and winced as he felt Damien's hand slide up his shirt, his nails dragging along his skin._

I can keep secrets that I know how you want me

You can tear your nails into my skin, you won't stop me

_"Damien, you're such an asshole." Kenny growled once Damien pulled back for air. Damien simply smirked, brushing a thumb over his nipple in a deceptively gentle gesture, belying the other hand that reached between them to firmly grip Kenny through his jeans._

_"You enjoy it." He whispered into Kenny's ear, giving his involuntary erection a squeeze as he bit down on his ear, eliciting an unintentional moan ._

You can twist and scream into the air

No one can hear you here

_Kenny grimaced when Damien's slightly sharpened canines pierced further into his earlobe, and he felt Damien's tongue dart out to lick the small amount of blood forming there. He was used to such abuse by now, but that didn't mean it didn't still hurt. And yet...he'd always been aroused by the rough treatment. The rougher it was, the more aroused he became. At times, He hated himself for it._

And there will be no tenderness

No tenderness

There will be no tenderness

No tenderness

I will show no mercy for you

You had no mercy for me

The only thing that I ask

Love me mercilessly

_Damien began moving his hand up and down, jacking Kenny off slowly and forcibly, causing Kenny to cry out both from pain and pleasure, unintentionally bucking his hips into Damien's hand._

_"I fucking hate you, Damien." Kenny growled, jerking his hips again when Damien gave him a tight squeeze. He chuckled into Kenny's ear._

_"Then why do you love _this_ so much?" He replied close to Kenny's ear before licking the shell., giving him another tight squeeze. Kenny could practically hear the smug grin on his face. _

All your shouting friends that despise you to your face

What would they say now if they saw you in this place?

Naked and breathless could you live with this disgrace?

_Kenny stayed silent, too angry at himself to dignify Damien with an answer. Damien simpered, knowing the conflict Kenny was stirring within himself. Anger and frustration grew steadily inside Kenny; anger at being restrained, anger at being treated like a toy, and anger at finding himself in the same situation over and over again because as much as he hated himself for it, he couldn't get enough of it. In a sick, demented way, Damien made him feel wanted._

Could you live

Could you live

Could you live with this?

_Kenny bit back a groan and grimaced simultaneously as Damien dragged his nails along his length as he continued stroking, the pain mixing with pleasure, driving him insane. He wanted to reach the height of his pleasure, but at the same time, he didn't because then all the feelings that accompanied the after math of climax would come crashing down on him again. "Shit, Damien...stop." He managed through clenched. Damien pulled back with a smirk, ignoring Kenny's request and not stopping his ministrations._

_"Why? You know you want it." Damien replied almost arrogantly. Kenny became angrier at the words, knowing Damien was right._

_"No! Get the fuck off me!" He began to struggle against his restraints, uncaring that they were cutting deeper into his wrists. Damien's eyes lit up with excitement and wicked intent at the sight of more blood trickling down Kenny's wrists, down to his forearm enticingly. He leaned down to once again lick the blood, ignoring Kenny's struggling, and this time sinking his canines into the bit of visible wound that was now enveloping the thin yet aberrantly strong chains that clung harshly to Kenny's skin. He caught the piece of flesh between his teeth and pulled it back, slowly tearing the reddened skin back, causing more blood to fill the seam, and Kenny to let out a short cry of pain._

And there will be no tenderness

No tenderness

There will be no tenderness

No tenderness

_He continued tearing at the skin, yanking it to the side until he created a new seam that met the other. He tilted his head back and effectively ripped the small chunk of skin off, Kenny crying out again. He then sadistically flicked the tip of his tongue over the gash, creating a sort of itching pain, as if a rusty saw blade were making it's way under his skin._

"_Fuck, Damien, you sadistic sonovabitch!" Kenny growled, trying to at least move his wrist out of harm's way. Damien laughed at his ineffectual efforts and scraped one of his teeth along the cut, digging through the other layers of skin, producing more blood. His teeth caught on a flap of skin and ripped it, widening the wound and making the flesh hang off in tendrils. Kenny bit back a scream of pain, biting his own tongue hard enough to draw blood._

I will show no mercy for you

You had no mercy for me

The only thing that I ask

Love me mercilessly

"_Tell me that you want it and I'll stop." Damien smirked, sliding his glance sideways to watch him as he laved at his abused wrist. Kenny levelled a lethal glare at him._

"_Fuck you." He snarled in disgust, spitting out a bit of blood. Damien grinned maliciously at the sight and quickly claimed Kenny's lips, shoving his tongue into his mouth and licking up the blood he found there. At the same time, he reached down and unbuttoned and unzipped is pants, shoving them down his hips. Kenny couldn't help but notice Damien hadn't worn boxers, meaning he'd been anticipating this. He angrily bit down on the intruding muscle in warning. Damien smirked against his lips, then pulled back to laugh. He actually _laughed_._

"_Tsk tsk, Kenny." He teased, licking his lips, staining them with blood, "You know that just excites me more." He finished in a low growl, shoving Kenny's pants and boxers down and off, tossing them carelessly to the floor. He then parted Kenny's legs, despite the other's best efforts to impede him, and crawled between them, all the while looking at him with a depraved gleam in his eyes that Kenny knew didn't fare well for him at all._

If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?

If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?

So many things that I would do

If I had my way with you

_Without any kind of warning or preparation, Damien thrust into Kenny, never breaking his gaze, even as Kenny swore loudly, his head driven back into the pillow._

_"Fuck!" Kenny swore again as Damien began moving at a harsh pace. uncaring of the pain that Kenny was in, in fact, seeming more enlivened by it. With a disproving smile, his eyes glittering with intent, he gripped Kenny by the chin, giving him a sweet kiss that set of warnings in Kenny's head._

And there will be no tenderness

No tenderness

There will be no tenderness

No tenderness

_Pulling back with a malicious grin, Damien gripped Kenny's shoulder, holding it down, and wrenched his head to the side by his chin. There was a resounding _crack_, and suddenly Kenny was in a tremendous amount of pain. He let out a mangled scream that was embarrassing to his own ears, but he didn't give a shit. He found it difficult to breathe, his eyes clamped shut as he sucked in ragged breaths, trying to inhibit his screams. Trying to focus on anything but the pain that was accentuated by every movement of Damien's hips. And even though he knew his neck was broken, he could still feel Damien's hungry licks and bites along his throat._

I will show no mercy for you

You had no mercy for me

The only thing that I ask

Love me mercilessly

_What disturbed and sickened him the most, however, was the fact that he was still getting a sort of perverse pleasure out of it. Instead of becoming flaccid, he'd become rock hard. Damien quickened his pace, rubbing Kenny's injured wrists raw, the chains cutting even deeper, and his neck aching and throbbing with sharp, electrified pinpricks of agonizing pain with every movement. And yet, he could still feel an itching, tingling sensation building up inside him._

Love me mercilessly.

"Kenny! Kenny! Wake the fuck up!" Kenny came awake with a gasp, immediately sitting upright, then swearing when his forehead collided painfully with something hard. Whatever he'd collided with echoed his exclamation. Kenny opened his eyes as he remembered his dream and frantically sucked in air. Pale and shaking a little, he checked his throat and neck, then his wrists. He breathed in a sigh of panicked relief, then looked at the figure directly in front of him, holding his own forehead and glaring in irritation. It was Cartman. Kenny looked around and saw Stan sitting up, watching Kenny with concern as Kyle got off his bed and made his way fearfully over to Kenny's side.

"Christ, Kenny, your fuckin' screaming woke me up." Cartman grumbled. Kyle shot him an outraged look, though Kenny could see a glimmer of unease in Cartman's eyes that Kyle couldn't.

"What the fuck is your problem, Cartman?" Kyle yelled, raising a fist to punch Cartman. Cartman narrowed his eyes and raised his own arm. Before any blows could be delivered, Kenny grabbed both their hands and forced them back down to their sides. Kyle gave him a shocked look, while Cartman merely transferred his gaze to Kenny, Stan looking on from his spot on the floor, getting ready to intervene if need be. Kenny just shook his head, signifying that he didn't have the strength to put up with a fight between them. This immediately placated Kyle, and worry returned to his face. Cartman's expression remained apathetic, though he willingly lowered his fist.

Kyle sat next to Kenny and wrapped an arm around him, giving him the comfort he was too prideful to ask for. Cartman simply watched.

"What the fuck happened?" Cartman finally asked, earning him a glare from both Kyle and Stan, who were annoyed by his blunt disregard for Kenny's ordeal. Kenny knew that the fact he'd even _asked_ meant he was concerned, however.

"Damien." He replied tiredly. Cartman waited for him to elaborate, then waved a hand in a 'come on' motion.

"And?" He asked impatiently. Kenny sighed, then relayed his story to them, his hand unconsciously making its way to his throat. By the time he'd finished, Stan had moved to sit next to Cartman, and he and Kyle were exchanging perturbed glances.

"...Fuck." Cartman grunted, realizing what the others hadn't.

* * *

**I'm so sorry this took me so long to finish! I haven't given up on it, I swear! Thank you all for sticking with me and being patient with me. The lyrics during the dream are from Hatefuck by the Bravery. I happened to be listening to it while i was writing the first part of the scene and spazzed out when I realized how well it fit. XD Seriously, listen to it while you read that scene. It just...ah. =w=**

**Ps, I REALLY hate how the document manager won't save my changes. -_-**

**EDIT: I realized there was an inconsistancy in this chapter, so I went back and added a sentence to fix it. XD**


	7. Mercenary

Kenny hardly got any sleep that night, and neither did his friends. They all took turns in pairs staying up to watch for any pending attacks from Damien, though none came. Breakfast was a sordid affair, all of them quiet and tired, save for Cartman who would let out the occasional grunt of general displeasure.

Kenny hardly ate anything, images from his dream recurring in his head and making him lose his appetite. Cartman glanced up at him, his face still turned down toward his mostly uneaten plate of food.

"You better fuckin' eat somethin'." He said flatly. Kenny rolled his eyes over to look at him.

"Not hungry." He replied.

"Yeah, and we don't need you being fuckin' week from hunger and more susceptible to attacks. Today's Friday, dude. You know he's going to try something this weekend."

"I FUCKIN KNOW THAT!" Kenny yelled, airing his frustrations loudly, his perpetual lack of sleep making him all the more irritable. Kyle and Stan looked taken aback, and shared a look of mild shock.

"Dude, Kenny, calm down." Stan said in a placating tone. Kenny gripped the sides of his head, his fingers firmly clenching his hair, his eyes wide and haunted, making the purple bags under his eyes even more pronounced, as well as his ashen face.

"How the fuck can I calm down when I know he's toying with me? He's just waiting for the perfect opportunity to unleash something horrible, and I don't know what the fuck it is!" It was that moment, more than any other that made his friends realize just what was happening to him, just how close he was to breaking. Hearing the desperation in his voice, the frantic questioning of his own sanity in those words, seeing how disturbed and disconsolate he was made them realize that he was indeed losing his sanity. All the restless nights, the mind games, the torture...it was all taking a heavy toll on him.

"I don't know how...but we need to put a stop to this." Kyle said, breathing a heavy, troubled sigh.

"What the hell _can _we do?" Kenny asked, a hint of hopeful desperation in his voice. An awkward silence pursued as the boys all looked to each other for an answer, Cartman still only glancing up from his food, seeming only mildly interested, a fact that irritated Kenny, though he said nothing, only setting his jaw.

"...Ain't that 'Mole' kid still doin' that Mercenary for Hire shit?" Cartman offered when it was obvious no one was able to put forward any good suggestions. Kenny, Kyle and Stan all looked at each other, Stan and Kyle mulling the possibility over while Kenny was already on board with anything that could help him in the slightest.

"Yeah..." Kyle proffered slowly, still thinking. "Still lives at home, too." Kenny looked between his friends with a pleading look that _none_ of them had ever seen on his face before. Even Cartman was floored, though of course he showed no indication of it. They all knew that it was only a matter of time now before Kenny reached his breaking point.

"We'll...skip school and go talk to him." Kyle suggested, an anxious sigh almost visible on his face at the mere thought of skipping school. Cartman snorted a bit into his bowl.

"The Jew wants to skip school? Damn, this _is_ serious." Kyle glared at him while Kenny gritted his teeth, having to consciously stop himself from chewing Cartman's head off at the statement that seemed so dismissive of Kenny's situation.

"Shut up, Cartman." Stan said, getting up to rinse out his dishes .

"Let's go now." Kenny said, getting up to do the same, his legs weak and shaking a little, his head feeling light.

"I don't even know if he's home no-" Kyle started.

"I CAN'T TAKE MUCH MORE OF THIS, KYLE!" Kenny interrupted explosively, his patience wearing thin with the perceived lack of proactivity on their part. His friends stared at him, except Cartman who irritatingly seemed to care less about what was going on behind him.

"Okay, we'll go now..." Kyle said, still a bit in shock. Kenny felt bad, but was too generally irritated to apologize. He put his dishes away, avoiding eye contact with his friends and went upstairs to change.

"Jesus. What the hell was that?" Stan asked in disbelief when Kenny was out of earshot. Cartman got up with a mixture of a sigh and a grunt, taking his bowl with him, having the courtesy at least to rinse his dishes out before carelessly sliding them onto the counter top, disregarding their rightful place in the dishwasher.

"Oh, he's just being a pussy." Kyle gave him a hard look, finding it impossible that Cartman was being such an asshole about this. Then he had a thought. Maybe Cartman _wasn't_ being an asshole. Maybe he was covering up for the fact that he _knew_ something. But what could he possibly know? Kyle knew Cartman was smart, despite the facade he presented for everyone, so he wasn't under any delusions that Cartman _couldn't _know something. He watched as Cartman headed upstairs the way Kenny had gone, then irritably turned to put Cartman's dishes in the sink, Stan helping with the rest, head turned back to watch Cartman leave, still trying to figure out what was so critically wrong with his personality.

* * *

"Your old man got any guns?" Cartman asked upon entering Kyle's bedroom and heading to his bag to get new clothes.

"'Course. He's a redneck, ain't he?" Kenny said, still irritated with Cartman, but taken aback by the question, finding it sudden and without pretense. Cartman simply nodded in approval, Kenny's answer obviously clicking something into place in Cartman's head. He was curious, but didn't much care what Cartman was planning, as usually whenever Cartman had an idea, it turned into a mildly (or completely) sadistic fixation, intended for pure humiliation. He just hoped it was helpful and not hindering. He really didn't need anything fucking up his life _more_ right now. Especially not Cartman.

"How many?" Cartman asked in a tone that denoted passing interest as he pulled his shirt over his head, switching it for the clean one.

"Two Semi automatic shotguns and a pump action." He replied, his eyebrow quirking up in an unasked question. Cartman simply nodded again as he stuffed his dirty clothes into a separate compartment of his bag, Kenny pulling his hoody back on, zipping up his bag.

Cartman walked out with his bag as Stan walked in the room. "I'll see you guys later." He tossed over his shoulder as he passed through the doorway.

"You're not coming with us?" Stan asked, disbelief and annoyance evident in his voice.

"Got some shit to do." He said loudly from the stairs.

"Whatever, asshole." Stan replied, more than a little incensed that Cartman seemed to care so little about someone who he'd claimed as his best friend since the third grade. But what did he really expect? It was Cartman. He sighed and went over to his bag, Not realizing that Kenny was still staring at the doorway, thinking about something, troubled.

Once the boys had all changed, and in Stan and Kenny's case, had repacked the stuff they'd brought, respecting Kyle's tendencies that bordered on OCD, they got into Kenny's car who had insisted that he drive, eager to enlist Christophe's help. Surprisingly, Kenny had a good memory for places and houses and managed to find it with little trouble. He parked in the shoddy driveway and they got out and walked up to the door. Kenny knocked, almost getting the second one out when the door jerked open as if it were as irritated as the person standing in front of them seemed to be.

"What ze 'ell do you want?" Christophe asked, aggravated making his years lightened accent seem heavier for a moment, a cigarette held between his slightly yellowed teeth as he talked, dark purple bags under his eyes standing harshly against his tanned skin, his clothes and hair messy and crumpled, suggesting he'd barely gotten up.

"We need your help." Kyle offered, wondering how Christophe could have woken up from one knock, and secretly hoping he wasn't going to shoot them _for_ waking him up.

"You know I 'ave a fee." He said flatly, leaning against the door now.

"We...don't have much money. We were hoping you'd do it for free." Kyle replied. Christophe's eyes glittered angrily at that.

"_Non. _I don't do charity work. My services are not free." He said harshly, leaning away from the door and starting to slam it on them. Stan slammed his fist against the other side, pushing it back on Christophe.

"You don't understand." Stan said, voice strained from his struggle to keep the door open.

"I understand zat I 'ave bills to pay and you think I will do a job for free!"

"It's Damien." Kenny stated.

"..What?" Christophe opened the door all the way again, interest reflected in his eyes "Damien?" Kenny nodded. Christophe leaned against the door again, taking a puff of his cigarette. "And you need my help wiz Damien becauuuse..?" Christophe trailed off, waiting for an answer. The other two were preoccupied with keeping the door open or bargaining with Christophe to notice Kenny's eyes dart to the side nervously, though his face remained placid. Christophe noticed though. It had also been obvious to him from how uncharacteristically quiet he was, compared to the _few_ times he'd seen him when he'd bothered to take a day off from killing and actually go to school, that he was deeply troubled by something. Panicked. Haunted even. Not that it made any difference to him, all he cared about was making a living and he just happened to _love _killing for money. There was something so thrilling about doing something that was viewed so controversially.

"He's...been tormenting me. He's trying to kill me." Kenny finally said, a prominent uneasiness in his voice that had Kyle giving him a sympathetic look.

"Why?" Christophe asked. Kenny shrugged helplessly. That was all Christophe needed. He'd seen this behavior and even exhibited some of it himself; he was doing it for sport. For some perverse self-serving satisfaction. He thought for a moment, mulling over all the deciding factors of taking on this job. In the end, his own thirst for thrills and challenge decided it for him. Damien had always seemed something unattainable. Something elusive and enticing in that he was essentially immortal. He was the son of Satan. Sadistic, feared, and he had ready access to a place where he could (and did) physically torture sinners in any manner he pleased every hour of every day. Christophe had been waiting for an opportunity to challenge Damien for a very long time. And if he died in the process, he knew where he was going and it opened up a whole new world of gameplay opportunities between he and Damien. To him, the situation was a win-win no matter how he looked at it. Except of course, the pesky little detail of the "free job."

"...Fine. I'll help you." He said finally, waving them in . Stan looked visibly relieved and Kyle cracked a smile. However, though Kenny was beyond relieved that Christophe agreed to help, he also knew that Christophe would have terms and demands, and that even though he was the best at what he did, one person wasn't enough. He would need more if he really wanted to put a stop to Damien.

Christophe motioned them to sit down on his couch that was in surprisingly good condition as he took a seat in an arm chair situated on the left side of his cherry wood coffee table. "Now tell me what 'as been 'appening wiz Damien. And make it quick. I don't 'ave patience for sob stories or irritating details."

"Well..." Kenny looked nervous, as if merely mentioning his name would somehow summon Damien up from hell to torment Kenny some more. "It started about a month ago...he'd only come into my dreams, fuck me, kill me or both. He'd find new ways to torment me, and it disturbed me, but in the end I knew they were dreams. But now...he's started trying to get me in real life. It hasn't really been anything major yet, just trying to scare me, but I know shit's gonna go down soon."

Christophe listened to him, showing no indication of emotion, only puffing on his cig as he already began formulating a plan. As Kenny finished, a young man with curly blonde hair and pale skin walked out of one of the rooms in the hallway that ran behind the wall the couch rested against, wearing only a pair of pale blue boxers and a white wife-beater. He yawned as he made his way to the open kitchen. Christophe turned to look at him as Stan and Kyle watched Gregory in surprise, Kenny not really giving a shit that they were living together.

"Gregory."

"Yes?" Gregory tiredly addressed Christophe, stopping in front of the counter and turning to face him.

" Allez me trouver ces cartes et les fichiers de ma chambre. Série A." Gregory's expression remained neutral as he looked from Christophe to the others and back.

"..Ok " He replied, pushing off from the counter and going back to the hallway. They heard some rustling and general movement of something that sounded heavy, and a few minutes later, Gregory reemerged with a manilla envelope fat with papers and held closed with a piece of red twine wrapped around the entire thing. Christophe held his hand out for it as Gregory neared him, giving him a quick "thank you" before promptly unwrapping and opening the folder as Gregory meandered back to the kitchen to find something suitable for lunch, such as it was.

Christophe laid three pages on the table. Each had a photo with a name, age, various other minute details, and a brief description of their title, where they could most likely be found, the reasons for their relevance and preference in such a case, how they favored to kill, and what weapons they used. It also had a section for their success record, and in a few cases, a description of their mental health and any hazardous personality defect the person had, as well as a cautionary statement on how to handle them.

Kenny was more than surprised to find Craig in the list. "Craig's a hitman?" He asked, his shock evident. Christophe craned his neck to see the picture Kenny was pointing at.

"_Non._ 'Ee is simply someone 'oo I always thought would be very valuable in zis situation, should it ever occur."

"You've...been _planning_ something like this?" Stan asked, a bit skeptical.

"Oui. It's practical." Christophe replied with a shrug and tone that denoted it was something _everyone_ should be thinking about, and also that he wasn't going to elaborate on why _he _had. Stan just rolled his eyes, letting it go as they got back to the file.

"Most of zem 'ave assignment of zeir own right now, but zese eight," he pointed out three girls and five guys, including Craig, "are available and willing. 'Owever, since I'm not directly associated with Craig, you will 'ave to contact him yourself. I will call ze others, and zey will be 'ere iiin...two days."

"Two days? Anything can happen in two days!" Kenny erupted irrationally. Christophe raised his brow cynically.

"You came 'ere asking _me_ for 'elp. I'm doing zis job for _free._ If zis is unacceptable, you can get out of my 'ouse and find someone else." Sensing Kenny was about to say something that would jeopardize the entire visit, Stan shook his head at him calmly, signifying that he was being irrational and needed to calm down. As he made the simple gesture, Stan couldn't help but think how ludicrous it was that he was telling _Kenny_ to calm down. Kenny. The master of being laid back and playful. It just seemed so unreal to him.

Kenny begrudgingly sat back down, Kyle clasping a hand on his shoulder as Christophe returned to the folder on his table. "Normally zey would all require zeir own fee, but because zey know 'ow much I've wanted an opportunity like zis, if I do it for free, zen so will zey." He paused for a moment, checking over the documents, then abruptly placed the other sheets together, pushing the sides in and lightly tapping the stack table's surface, until the papers were aligned, then replacing them in the folder, then standing up with it. "Bon. If zat is all, zen I 'ave things to do and call to make."

"Yes, thank you for your help." Kyle said sincerely as he, Stan and Kenny stood up to leave. Kenny looked very nervous, but thanked Christophe as well. He wasn't intimidated by Christophe in the least. His apprehension came more from the fact that he was unsure if they could put a stop to Damien, even _with _Christophe's help. They left, saying goodbye to Christophe and Gregory, Kenny's feeling of apprehension growing as they decided to track Craig down at the school. He wondered where the hell Cartman was and just hoped to god he hadn't copped out on them. As much of an asshole as he was, Kenny knew Cartman would be vital in their fight.

* * *

**Hey everyone! SO sorry it took me so long! DX I was going to make this MUCH longer, but there's just no way I can fit it in like that, so I will get started with chapter 8 right away. Also, sorry for the french and my extremely limited knowledge about guns. XD Hope you all enjoy, and thank you for continuing to read!**


	8. Bodies

"Why?" Came Craig's toneless response to Kenny's request.

"Because we're friends?" Kenny asked irritably.

"Barely." Craig responded in the same way.

"You know what, ass-" Kyle cut Kenny off before he could ruin their chances of recruiting Craig. He gave his friend a stern look, willing him to shut up as he took over the negotiations.

"Look, we...need your help. Badly. We saw Christophe just now and he said you'd be good for this sort of thing." An eyebrow raised on Craig's otherwise impassive face.

"Sleepovers?"

"No...well.." He looked at Kenny and Stan, Cartman still absent from their presence. "It's...not exactly a sleepover. It's...more complicated then that." Craig's eyebrow raised a tad further. "A _lot_ more complicated."

Craig stared at him blankly, waiting for him to elaborate. Kyle sighed.

"Are you particularly attached to this period?" He asked as Kenny grew more and more impatient by Craig's irritating blasé attitude. Kenny took a moment to reflect on the fact that he normally got along with Craig really well. Despite the raven haired boy's comment about them being "barely" friends, they did end up hanging out a lot, mostly because they were so similar, and because they were one of the few people who could actually look past the facade they put up, respect it, and understand the person behind it. He didn't know what was going on with him. He'd _noticed _that he'd gotten more petulant lately, but he couldn't stop himself. He presumed it was from his lack of sleep and the stress, and there was really nothing he could do about that at the moment.

"No. " Craig answered. Kyle looked a bit stressed as he looked around nervously, which caused Kenny to roll his eyes, arms crossed guardedly over his chest.

"Follow us. We'll explain everything." Craig gave him a penetrating stare as if asking if he was really going to make him get up, then silently gathered his backpack, slung it over one shoulder and followed them. Stan could swear Craig was almost begrudging as he followed. Then again, he didn't really blame the guy.

They led him out to the parking lot by Kenny's car, Kenny leaning against it exhaustedly. Craig stood with his arms crossed, eyebrow raised slightly in impatience as he waited for _someone_ to explain why they'd dragged him out to the damn parking lot, and why they were acting so sketchy. As Kyle and Stan exchanged apprehensive glances, clearly trying to think of how best to broach the subject, Kenny's own impatience wore thin, and he growled a bit.

"Damien's tryin' to kill me and we need your help to stop him." He rolled his eyes. "There. Was that so fuckin' hard?" Stan shot him a glare, and Kyle had to fight with himself not to snap right back at Kenny.

"Why do you need _my_ help?" Craig asked in a flat tone, giving off the air of being unaffected by Kenny's peril. Even though that's how he always acted, today Kenny found it particularly grating.

"Because I'm your fuckin' friend? How about that?" Craig narrowed his eyes slightly at him.

"Drop the bullshit attitude, Kenny, and I _may_ consider helping you." Kyle and Stan were glad that they weren't the only ones who were getting fed up with Kenny's recent change of behavior. They hadn't said anything because they knew how dire his situation was becoming, but that didn't mean that it didn't aggravate them. Kenny took a deep breath to keep himself from punching the unsympathetic bastard, and instead crossed his arms, mirroring Craig's stance, though he leaned against his car, crossing a leg over the other.

"_Please_ help me, Craig." Craig smirked irritatingly, tapping a finger against his still crossed arm, as if considering.

"And what's in it for me?" He asked in the same monotonous tone as always, hiding the enthusiasm that was portrayed only minutely by his smirk. Kenny gritted his teeth until his jaw hurt, then forced himself to stop and answer normally.

"You probably get to shoot shit up?" He asked, the underlying tone in his voice suggesting that that alone better be enough of a reason for Craig to help him. Craig actually grinned, a little vindictively, and the sight startled the other boys, though Kenny's shock at the moment was only mild.

"Fine. I'll help you out, McKormick." Craig answered. Kenny almost snapped again at Craig's high-handed attitude, as if he were doing him a _favor_ by helping him out. As if it had been _his_ idea to help him out of the goodness of his heart. If Kenny wasn't so desperate, he would have punched Craig.

"When are we doing this shit?" Craig asked, back to his usual disinterested tone.

"Tonight. We think Damien's going to try something big this weekend." Kyle spoke up for Kenny, Stan putting a hand on Kenny's shoulder, sensing the barely restricted anger.

Craig simply nodded. "Fine." Kyle fidgeted a little, looking at Stan uncomfortably.

"And also...is there anyone in your group who you think could help..?"

"No." Craig answered abruptly. Kyle sighed. He didn't know what he thought he'd gain from asking. It was a miracle they'd even gotten _Craig_ to help.

"Okay, thanks." He replied, a little defeated.

"If you have any guns, make sure to bring 'em." Kenny said a bit gruffly as Craig uncrossed his arms and prepared to leave.

"Yeah, yeah." He replied, flipping the group off over his shoulder as he turned and casually walked back to the school, placing his hands in his pockets.

"God that guy is such an asshole." Kenny commented through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, but we need him." Stan's reply came in the form of a sigh as he and Kenny pushed away from his car and got in, Kyle following suit as they drove back to Kyle's place, the necessary steps of preparation heavy in their minds.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Later that evening, Craig lay on his back in bed with Tweek curled up on him, fingers laced with the hand that Craig had draped over his shoulder, Tweek's head resting on Craig's shoulder. Both of their clothes were on, neither being much in the mood for intimacy of that sort after Craig had shared his weekend plans with Tweek, both opting for a simpler comfort.

"You're really...going to do this?" Tweek asked, trying [and failing] to mask the worry in his voice.

"Yeah." Craig grunted, attempting to dispel Tweek's worry by acting like his normal monotonous self.

"Craig..." Tweek's voice held a warning, Craig surmised it was both a warning against his previously agreed activity, and also for trying to act normal when he knew Tweek was worried about him. Craig let out a small sigh and rolled his eyes over to look at Tweek, face still pointed toward the ceiling.

"I can handle myself. I'll be fine. And as much as I like denying it, that poor ass sonovabitch _is_ my friend." Tweek squeezed his fingers between his own, careful thought etched in his face alongside the worry.

"I know, but Craig...I don't want you putting yourself at risk for him. Then again, I know he can't do this alone, and I like him too...but you could get killed...nnng." It was times like these, when Tweek was stressed or upset, that Craig was reminded of how sporadic and spastic he was before he quit drinking coffee. How his mind jumped everywhere and he couldn't finish a coherent thought before starting another one. Although now, one sure thing always managed to calm him down.

"I'll be fine." He repeated, disentangling his fingers from Tweek's and using them to lift Tweek's face from his jaw, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his lips that would startle anyone who'd witnessed it. The worry ebbed from Tweek's face and instead was replaced by a soft smile, then a thoughtful expression.

"Then...I'm coming with you." Tweek said quietly. Craig's expression immediately turned concerned.

"Tweek, no." He replied sternly.

"But Craig, he needs all the help he can get, right?"

"You don't need to be putting yourself at unnecessary risk." Craig replied in the same firm tone. Tweek raised an eyebrow at how hypocritical Craig was being.

"_You _are."

"No one gives a shit if _I_ die."

"I'd give a shit, Craig!" Tweek all but yelled. He _knew_ Craig knew how much Tweek cared for him, and in turn, how much _he _cared for Tweek. It wasn't fair that Craig could go risk his life without giving a shit about Tweek's feelings, but Tweek couldn't do the same.

"I'm going to help." He said with determination, pulling away from Craig and sliding off his bed. He cast Craig one last hurt look before leaving. Craig watched him go, then growled, placing an arm over his eyes. Suddenly, he sat up, uncharacteristic anger washing over him.

"Goddamnit, Kenny!" Craig yelled, punching the wall behind his headboard. He sat for a minute with his fist inside his wall before retracting it, still fuming and sucking on his bloodied knuckles.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"...Where the fuck have you been?" Kenny asked when Cartman nonchalantly walked through Kyle's door.

"You're welcome, dickface." Cartman replied, setting down the _pile_ of big and dangerous game rifles he'd brought with him.

"This is what you've been doing all day?" Stan queried, picking through the impressive stock. Cartman set down three more plastic bags from the small town equivalent of Home Depot, containing lighter fluid, a small array of tools, trimming sheers, kitchen knives, and heavy duty flashlights.

"Yes." He replied, setting the bags down and going back out to his truck. A few minutes later, he came back bearing a cordless weedwacker , cordless circular saw, flamethrower, shovels and snow shovels, setting them down on Kyle's kitchen table with the guns and other items.

"...What the fuck is all this?" Stan asked as Kenny trotted over to have a look. Cartman shrugged.

"Ain't you ever seen a horror movie?" He asked sarcastically. "Anything's a weapon." A gleam and wicked grin stole over Kenny's face as he picked up a Weatherby Mark V Dangerous Game rifle and looked up at Cartman. Stan was a bit shocked at the expression, but at the same time, relieved. That was how the old Kenny would have reacted. The sane Kenny. He would have gotten excited over the guns.

"Dibs." Kenny declared as he lovingly ran his hand along the barrel of the gun. Stan was about to protest, when Kyle came into the kitchen and froze, his eyes widening at the display.

"What the fu-Cartman, how the _hell_ did you pay for all this shit?" He indicated the Weatherby. "That's an almost three thousand dollar gun, Cartman!" Cartman simply shrugged.

"I have ways." Was all he said, leaving Kyle to flounder and Kenny to continue stroking the gun. He turned to Kenny.

"We're going to your place." Kenny stopped and stared at him.

"My place? Why?"

"Familiar ground. If you're going to be fighting Damien, you should be on familiar ground."

"My house _is_ familiar ground." Kyle interjected.

"Not as much as his." Cartman replied, jerking his thumb toward Kenny.

"Makes sense, I guess..." Kenny grumbled thoughtfully.

"Is your brother home?" Stan asked, a bit concerned. Kenny froze and the color drained from his face.

"Oh shit! My brother! I can't fight that asshole with Kevin in the house! I'd be putting him in danger! Fuck, FUCK!" Kenny swore, anxiety welling in him at the thought of putting the only member of his family who gave a shit about him in danger. Stan clasped a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll figure something out, Kenny. We wouldn't put Kevin in danger." As Kenny opened his mouth to answer, his cell phone went off. He picked it out of his pocket and flipped it open, too anxious to look at the caller i.d.

"Hello?"

"Kenny, I 'ave good news for you. The others I called will be 'ere tonight at 9. Be at your 'ouse. Goodbye." Click.

Kenny pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it for a second, then hopeful elation stole over him. "Christophe says those people will be here tonight. We have to go to my house. Now." Kenny said, frantically gathering up the rifles that Cartman had set down only moments earlier. As he went outside to load them into the back seat of his car, making sure all the safeties were on of course, Stan and Kyle exchanged concerned glances with Cartman, who reciprocated with a bored look, then shrugged before going back outside to his truck. It had been pretty much unanimously decided that Stan would ride with Cartman, as Kyle and Cartman would surely pull over and brawl if left together.

Kyle slid into Kenny's passenger side seat, pulling his ipod out of his pocket and hooking it up to Kenny's radio.

"Aw, dude, what-"

"I have a song I think you'll like. " Kyle said, attempting normalcy by grinning mischievously. Kenny could appreciate his effort to try and cheer him up, and offered him a smirk of his own, if just to let Kyle know that he acknowledged what he was doing.

"Okay, fine." He said as he pulled out of the driveway and took off. Kyle turned his ipod on and found the song. After a moment of silence, a drum beat for the count of five before a slightly off key voice started singing.

_It was a Friday night and_

_I wanted to go out to_

_A brand new club in town_

_A discotheque I heard about through_

_A friend of mine who told me_

_The place was a circus act for sure_

_And then we rolled up and saw Koopa working at the door_

_He waved us in _

_And we randomely met the Mr. Hannibal Lector_

_He was handling records_

_In the DJ booth_

_Asking which was the best selection_

_To make an impression on the wicked witch of the west _

_And the witch was_

_Booty dancin with Manson and Gannon_

_Right next to Sideshow Bob being shot from Blackbeard's cannon_

_That's when I knew that tonight I'd be chillin up in the danceclub_

_Partying with all these villains_

Kenny couldn't help but quirk a corner of his mouth up. "Dude, what the fuck is this?" He asked, his tone considerably lighter than it had been in days.

"Club Villain by YFM. I'm surprised you've never heard this before. It's right up your alley." Kyle replied, grinning.

"No, but you're right. This song is amazing." Kenny replied, referring more to the fact that the lyrics were so humorous, and despite the occasional off-key singing, it actually had a good beat.

_I can't keep partying round_

_Keep partying round_

_Keep partying_

_Partying _

_Partying_

_I can't keep partying round_

_Keep partying round_

_Keep partying_

_Partying_

_Partying_

_With all these villains_

_All these villains_

_All these villains_

_Catwoman and Harley Quinn_

_I swear I saw those hoes kiss_

_I laughed at Jason Voorhees rockin glow sticks_

_And Doctor Octopus was also getting physical with Ursula_

_The two were makin out and touching tentacles_

_And Voldemort greeted Vader with a fist pound_

_They were checkin out Mystique's ass next to Chris Brown_

_And Megatron he was getting it on he was drawin a crowd_

_And they were calling out loud like_

_Go Megatron! Go Megatron! Go Megatron! Go Megatron! Go Megatron! Go Megatron! Go! Go! Go!_

_I looked up and saw Venom doing Jäger bombs on the ceiling_

_That's when I knew that I'd be partying_

_With all these villains_

At this point, Kenny was laughing. A full-fledged laugh that Kyle hadn't heard in weeks. He smiled, happy to see his friend in higher spirits.

"This song is awesome." Kenny laughed as he pulled into his driveway. The mirth faded from his face only seconds later, however, when he glanced at his brother's pick-up next to him. Kyle's face fell as well, disheartened by Kenny's sudden dour return in mood.

Kenny sighed. The sight of his brother's pick-up made reality crash unpleasantly back down on him. Already, he was missing the jovial distraction of mere moments ago. He could feel Kyle's defeated expression as it bore down on the back of his neck. Both heads turned as Cartman pulled up on the other side of Kenny, parking partly on the grass. Nice.

They got out of the car, Kyle and Cartman having a small war with their doors, before Kyle smirked with the realization that he could squeeze out in the small space between their doors, and Cartman couldn't. Cartman narrowed his eyes as Kyle slipped out and slammed Kenny's door shut, grinning with an eyebrow raised arrogantly.

"Come on, Girls, let's go inside." Stan quipped flatly as he came around the back of both cars, walking between Kenny and Kevin's, and heading into the house after Kenny. Kevin came out of the living room, and grinned.

"Jeez, Ken, I thought you'd never come home." Kevin joked as Cartman and Kyle piled in, Kyle politely closing the door after them. His playful grin faded, however, when he saw Kenny's ashen face.

"Ken? You okay?" He leaned down to get a better look at Kenny's face, his own a mask of worry. Kenny waved off his brother's apprehension and tried to smile to show he was okay, even if he wasn't.

"I'm fine, Kev. Just had a hard time sleeping last night is all." Kevin didn't look convinced, but let it go, going into the kitchen.

"Well, you'll be happy, Ken. I went shopping yesterday. Now we have food." Kenny actually smiled at that.

"Great, thanks Kev." He motioned his friends to his room, then walked into the kitchen, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey Kev? You goin' to your girlfriend's this weekend?"

"Wasn't plannin' on it. Why?" He asked, back turned to Kenny as he rummaged through the cabinets beside the fridge, looking for dinner.

"Well, I mean...you haven't seen her in a while. Maybe you two should hang out." Kenny tried his best to make it sound like he was just concerned for his brother's relationship, but even to his ears, his tone was false. Kevin turned around.

"Yeah, I know...she's been busy with work..." One brow furrowed a bit as he stared at Kenny. "Why the sudden interest in my love life?" He asked skeptically.

"I'm not, I just...need you out of the house." He was aware of how rude and suspicious that sounded, but he couldn't think of any other way to drop the hint. Kevin looked taken aback.

"Why? Ashamed of your older brother now?" He said jokingly, though Kenny could tell he was a bit hurt by the thought. Kenny gave him a droll stare.

"Yeah, that's it." He said sarcastically. "No, It's just that I'm going to have a LOT of people over tonight, and I don't want them to bother you." Kevin quirked an eyebrow.

"You've never given a shit about your friends bothering me before." He said, the eyebrow furrowing as he tried to determine what was wrong with his little brother. Worry and frustration at his brother's inability to decipher his reasoning stole over Kenny, and he had to catch himself before he exploded at him.

"Look, Kevin, just...please. I need you out of the house tonight." Even thought he made sure his face and voice were impassive, he knew his brother saw right through him. Kevin folded his arms and gave him a stern fatherly look before crooking a finger, motioning him to follow him to sit at the table. Kenny hesitated, then sighed, knowing that this was it. He was going to have to tell his brother, and his brother was going to think he was a nut job. Fuck.

Kevin sat in his favorite position, straddling the back of the chair in an attempt to make Kenny more comfortable with the display of informal normalcy. Kenny mentally snorted, knowing it wouldn't make a difference. What he had to say was going to be the hardest thing he'd ever have to admit to Kevin. And he knew he had to tell him _all_ of it. He carefully sat down opposite his brother. A few moments of silence ensued as Kenny tried to gather his thoughts and courage.

"Well?" Kevin asked calmly, belied by the eyebrow raised impatiently. Kenny swallowed. _Goddamn, why is this so hard? Quit being a pussy and tell him for fuck's sake! _

"You..." He stopped, then started again, trying to sound more like his normal self. "Ya know how I die and shit all the time?" Kevin outright snorted.

"No shit I know. Gives me a heart attack every fuckin' time." Kenny cringed at that, hating that his brother worried so much about him, but knowing there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. But at least he came back...right?

"Yeah...so...every time I die, I go to hell right?" Kevin nodded knowingly, Kenny having already divulged this bit of information years ago. This was old, if disturbing, news to him. Kenny cleared his throat, finding it unnaturally hard to enlighten his brother of his turmoil. "So...I go to hell and Damien's there. He...we...kinda..." He gritted his teeth, willing himself to just get it the fuck out and over with. "Well... he fucks me." Kevin's eyes widened in shock. "...What?" Kenny laughed bitterly as he looked down at the surface of the table. His brother's expression was exactly how he'd felt the first time Damien had announced that he was going to fuck Kenny. He'd long since overcome those feelings of disturbance and shock.

"That's not the worst part. When he fucks me, he tortures me. Fuckin' gets off on that shit. The things he's done to me..." His blue eyes rose to meet his brother's. "Are fuckin' despicable." The fact that Kenny spoke so calmly about his torturous experiences spoke volumes of how many times he'd been subjected to them. It had become natural to him, and if what he was saying was true, then...it was very worrisome. Kevin had no reason not to believe him. He'd seen Kenny die and come back to many times to fuckin' count, for chrissakes. That alone made him a believer in almost anything, and his heart ached for his little brother. Guilt washed over him at the thought that there was no way he could have protected him from the sickening events Kenny had undergone. He hadn't been there to protect his little brother...

"Kenny...I'm so sorry." Was all he could say, but the emotion he put behind it had Kenny wanting to reach out and hug him. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably and crossed his arms over the table, leaning over them and clearing his throat. His gaze traveled back to the surface beneath his arms, unable to bear looking at his older brother's hurt and guilt-ridden face.

"I'm...not done." Kenny continued, flashing his brother a brief, small smile to show that he wasn't ignoring the apology, or the guilt he knew was there. He just needed to get everything out before he blanched. "The reason I've been so pale and haven't been sleeping or eating well is because the last two months, he's been toying with me. He's been trying to kill me so he can 'play' with me. It started out with small shit like asshole drivers who were fuckin' _aiming_ to hit me, but I always managed to dodge them. I guess Damien got tired of not killing me by manipulating _things_, and decided to manipulate _me_. For the past couple weeks, he's been showing up in my dreams. Haunting me. Torturing me. Doin' fuckin' grotesque things to me. He's been picking at my sanity, tryin' to drive me insane so I'll...I don't know, kill myself, I guess." He glanced up again, desperate fear peeking through the cracking stony wall of composure he'd forced into place.

"I'm starting to break, Kev." That statement, more anything Kenny had just admitted to him, floored Kevin. His brother was not weak. Neither of them were. Even if they allowed themselves to show enough emotion so the other knew that strong bond of brotherly affection was there, the fact remained that they'd grown up in an environment that didn't permit weakness. It simply wasn't tolerated. Any outward emotion they'd shown had been readily and it seemed eagerly pounced on by their parents. They seemed to genuinely enjoy picking apart their children's thoughts and emotions, criticizing every last thing they possibly could, calling them fags and idiots, weak, pussies...by the time Kevin was 8 and Kenny 5, they'd both learned to never "feel" around their parents. To have an ever present, inscrutable pretense. They never talked about how they felt, even to each other beyond the normal grumblings of physical requirements. The fact that Kenny had admitted that he was breaking...Kevin knew it was serious. This was Kenny coming to him for help. _His little brother needed him._

"Kenny..." Kevin got up, dragging his chair with him, making a cringe worthy scraping noise. He sat it next to Kenny and reclaimed his seat, putting a comforting arm around him. Kenny flinched and recoiled slightly , refusing to look at him before settling back down, allowing his brother to give him the comfort he'd been so desperately craving for months, but hadn't had the courage to ask for. A pregnant silence ensued, and Kenny knew Kevin was waiting for his initial question to be answered.

"Shit's going down, Kev. We think it's going to be this weekend. His 'visits' have gotten more frequent and volatile lately. He even left me with this a little while ago.." He said acidly, pushing up the sleeve of his hoodie to reveal the scar he'd so painstakingly hidden from his brother. The word forever etched into his skin was still as raw as ever, the area around it now reddened with a slight infection Kenny hadn't been able to prevent, no matter what steps he'd taken to do so. Kevin's hand flew to Kenny's arm, his eyes impossibly wide as he gripped the limb, staring at the scar.

"Jesus Christ, Kenny..." Came the troubled, breathless response. Kenny still looked away, down at the table.

"That's why I want you out of the house. I don't want to put you in danger." He said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. Kevin looked up at Kenny, still gripping his arm as he stared at the side of his face, the other refusing to meet his gaze.

"No." Kevin said. This elicited a surprised response from Kenny.

"..What?" He asked incredulously.

"No." Kevin repeated firmly. "I'm not going anywhere." There was a strained pause as Kenny just stared at his brother, trying to process what Kevin was telling him. Then, anger slowly crept over him as the realization came to him. He wrenched his arm from Kevin's hand and stood up, uncaring that his chair had flown backwards and landed on the ground behind him.

"Don't you fuckin' get it? You could _die_, you fuckin' asshole!" Kenny yelled, going ballistic. While Kevin understood _why _Kenny was angry, he didn't appreciate Kenny's misplaced anger being directed at him. He stood up as well, eyes narrowed.

"Don't you fuckin' call me an asshole, Kenny." His parenting tone incensed Kenny even more.

"Don't talk to me like I'm a fuckin' kid! You ain't my goddamn parent, Kevin!" Now that stung. Kevin's eyes blazed as he balled his hands into fists.

"No I ain't! I _give_ a shit about you! Did you forget who fuckin' _raised_ you? Did you forget who _always_ made sure there was food on the table for you, and clothes on your ungrateful back?" Kevin regretted saying those words immediately after they left his mouth. The injured and disbelieving look on Kenny's face was enough to send him spiraling into remorse. "Shit, Kenny..."

"I ain't ungrateful." Kenny replied, his tone considerably less explosive, though it held new resentment for the words spoken. "I know I never tell you this, because it's fuckin' gay as shit, but I appreciate everything you've done for me. I can't fuckin' convey that enough. You've devoted so much of your time and self to make sure that I'm fed and have a roof over my head, and trust me, I know it. I know you think I'm ungrateful, but I ain't. I know how hard it's been to raise me and shit, and..." His expression soured slightly at the gravity of what he was about to admit. "I fuckin' love you, and that's why I want you the fuck outta here." he grumbled through gritted teeth. Kevin's expression changed from distressed to shocked to oddly elated at the statement. "If you tell anyone I fuckin' said that, I'll kick your ass!" Kenny quickly stated, pointed aggravatedly pointing at his brother.

"Love you too, Ken." He replied, an amused smile on his face and in his voice. "And if you tell anyone I said that, _I'll _kick _your_ ass. Got it?" Kenny just grumbled something in response, still humiliated and irritated at his gay fucking admission. Kevin couldn't help but laugh before his face turned serious again. "But I ain't goin' anywhere, Ken. I mean it. If I wasn't able to protect my little brother while he was being subjected to...whatever the fuck you were subjected to, then I'm sure as hell going to kick Damien's motherfuckin' ass."

Kenny opened his mouth to protest, but Kevin interjected. "No." He grinned in true McKormick fashion. "This motherfucker's getting his ass ripped apart." Kenny couldn't help but smirk at the statement. Recognizing that his brother _didn't_ think he was a raving lunatic, he appreciated the significance of his brother helping him.

XXXXXXXXXX

At exactly 9:00, Kenny was called out of his room by Kevin. He and the others had been developing a gameplan, Kenny having explained the fight they'd heard earlier, and he was a little irritated that it was being disrupted. He padded down the hallway to the living room, about to snap at Kevin, but stopped short when he saw a girl standing there, raising her eyebrow as if to say "Well?" She looked like the female version of Christophe. She was short, [Kenny estimated her at about 5' 4"] but had long, well formed legs showcased by barely there jean short shorts. She had short, messy and purposefully unkempt black hair with streaks of a dark orchid and lighter violet strategically placed throughout, and calculating blue-green eyes. She wore an olive green, off the shoulder loose tank that was cropped well above her belly button and exposed a good portion of her right breast. Enough to see that the words _Cauchemar Obsédant _had been tattoo'd in an elegant purple script across the swell of it.

She had thin lips for a girl, though that hadn't stopped her from piercing the bottom one. Something Kenny could appreciate as he thoughtfully played with his own lip piercing. Her tank was partially tucked at the bottom into a wide ammo belt around her waist, leaving only a small amount of skin showing below the bottom of her shirt, and the waistline of her shorts. Her arms were encased by black arm warming, fingerless gloves with chains hanging off of them, clinking every time she moved.

Probably the coolest thing about her outfit, however, were her combat boots. They were about shin high, the top of each unzipped a few inches and folded over to reveal the gray striped interior. The zipper pull was a silver skull, and about four small skulls lined the bottom sides of the gray boots. An odd sort of paisley design made up the thick fabric.

Kenny remembered her from the file Christophe had shown him. Her name was Jaqueline, "Jacky" Rosseau. She was 19 years old and had an explicit warning on her file that stated she was mentally unbalanced.

"What ze 'ell are you stairing at, ass 'ole? Nevair seen a woman before?" She asked impatiently in heavily accented french as she pulled a pack of cigs from the brown leather backpack that was slung over one shoulder. She pulled a cig from the carton, then moved to return it to her backpack. Kenny grinned.

"Can I bum one of those? Been a while since I've had a good smoke." Kevin gave him a meaningful stare, but Kenny just rolled his eyes. Jacky looked at him blankly for a moment before grumbling and pulling a cig out for him, as well.

"Thanks." Kenny said, still grinning as he took it. Even though he was distressed as all hell and knew she was a whack job, Kenny couldn't help but be playful around a hot chick. Especially when she had such a great set of tits. She smirked, her lip curling upward.

"Don't mention eet. Are you going to light zese fuckers or not?" She asked after a momentary pause. Kenny motioned her to follow him, still grinning, as he led her to the kitchen where he kept one of his lighters. He opened the drawer that had been mentally labeled the "junk" drawer, and pulled out the red lighter. He lit hers first, which she had habitually placed between her teeth while she waited for him, then lit his own as she inhaled. He took a long drag, closing his eyes blissfully as he savored the flavor, and immediately felt calmer. It really had been too long since he'd smoked. He blew the smoke out, and opened his eyes to find Jacky watching him, her cig held between her fingers, touching her lips, but not yet entering.

"So you are ze one 'oo eez being 'unted." She said finally, her face impassive.

"You were expecting some other poor idiot?" Kenny asked, smirking before taking another drag.

"Non. I was just zeenking zat it makes zense. A poor boy from a redneck family...eazily manipulated...or so seen by Damien. Alzough I bet now you've become more compliant to 'is whims, non?" She ended with a knowing smirk. Kenny's own faded from his lips as he glowered at her.

"What the fuck are you trying to say?" He asked defensively. This only made her grin wider.

"Don't get so butt 'urt ovair a seemple observation. I mean only zat ze actions on 'is part 'ave become 'abitual, no? You 'ave become used to zem. You like zem. You get a seeck pleasure from zem, even. But you deesgust yourself. You are 'orrified by ze fact zat you get off on 'is torture, but you can't 'elp but like it." What the fuck? How the hell did she know _any _of that? How the fuck could she delve so deeply into his conflicting emotions, and why the fuck was she casually bringing it up, without pretense, and as if she and Kenny were the best of friends?

"Look, lady, don't pull that psychoanalyzing shit on me. If you're trying to piss me off, you're doin' a good fucking job." It was then that he realized she was toying with him. There was no reason for it, just her own pleasure. She really _was_ dangerous, pulling the same shit Damien did. Kenny would have to make sure not to fall for her shit again. He couldn't help but think, though, that she would be a great asset. She thought like Damien. She could understand him. His motives. She alone could probably help defeat him. He recognized the self-serving behavior even in the way she simply puffed on her cig and smirked at him. He watched her wearily before motioning her to follow him to his room.

As they entered, the other boys looked up. Kyle and Stan had mirrored surprised expressions, and as ever, Cartman's was expressionless. He snorted derisively, however, and returned to the papers on the floor in front of him. "Figures." He grumbled. Jacky smirked, blowing out some smoke.

"Zat I'm a woman?" She asked, amused.

"No." He replied, eyes traveling back up to look at her as his face remained turned down to the papers. "That you're French and a sociopath." Her eyes glimmered with interest.

"What a smart leettle boy you are." She practically coo'd condescendingly. 'Ow deed you know just from lookeeng at me?"

"It's obvious as shit." He replied flatly. She quirked an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate, but he suspected she already knew by the way her mouth stayed twisted upward, so he just stared at her, eyes and face stony until she broke the moment by taking another drag of her cigarette. Eyes still on him, narrowed in amusement.

Behind her, Kenny lovingly smoked his own cig as he sat down, reclaiming his spot in the little circle the boys had formed. He looked up when he felt eyes on him, and saw Kyle and Stan staring at him expectantly. He raised a brow as if asking "what?" then realized he hadn't introduced them to Jacky. They didn't recognize her because they were too busy talking to Christophe while he'd been looking through the candidates.

"This is Jacky. She's one of the ones from Christophe's folder." He supplied before tugging at his cig again, eyes closing in pleasure once again. Kyle stood, smiling, to shake her hand. Stan followed suit, though his expression was more scrupulous.

"I'm Stan." The boy in question said, offering his hand. Surprisingly, she took it, offering one firm shake before dropping his hand, all the while, her crooked smirk in place.

"'Ello, Stan. Eet's nice to meet you." She said in a way that had them wondering if she meant it sarcastically or not, but her expression was unchanging. She nodded her head toward Kyle.

"And you?"

"Kyle. That fatass over there is Cartman." That elicited and irritated 'fuck you!' from Cartman, which was promptly ignored. "Pleasure to meet you, Jacky." He said conversationally, extending his hand as well. She shook his hand once as well, but didn't drop it like she had Stan's. Instead, she gripped it.

"Ze pleasure eez all mine." She purred, all but exuding sexuality in the way she subtly pointed her hips toward him and pulled his arm toward her slightly. Kenny mentally snorted. Kyle was a genius, but when it came to girls, he was inexperienced enough to get caught up in something like this without even realizing it. He blew out some smoke, then cleared his throat.

"We've been going over a plan for that fucking prick. Input?" He asked, pointing to the papers on the floor. She flashed him a wicked grin and sat down between him and Kyle, pulling the papers away from Cartman and toward her, the other two regaining their seats as she skimmed over the papers. Within a few seconds, she put them back down on the floor.

"Non. Zees would nevair work." She said matter of factly, though her eyes held judgement, the kind that with one look, you knew she thought you were a fucking idiot.

"Why?" Kyle asked, taken aback. He was always good at making plans. How could this not work?

"You are a smart boy, oui, I can tell. But smart doesn't mean sheet when you lack experience. Experience is key to comeeng up weez a good plan. Eef you 'ave experience, you 'ave strategy." She said in the same matter-of-fact tone, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. But, when Kenny thought about it, it _was_ the most obvious thing in the world. He'd been looking at this objectively, instead of subjectively. He knew Damien about as well as Damien knew himself, yet that hadn't come to his mind when they were making up the plan. He'd only being thinking of the outcome. Of how they _could_ get rid of him, not how they _should._ Not what would hit him the hardest.

"We need to think more particularly..." Kyle said aloud as if he'd just read Kenny's mind. Jacky grinned.

"Oui. And for zees, we need ze two people 'oo know 'eem ze best. Your favorite ass'ole 'ere, and my favorite ass'ole from 'ome." As if on cue, there was a loud knock on the door and Kenny jumped up, snuffing the already smoked cig into his carpet and hurried off to answer the door. Jacky and Cartman watched knowingly, the others curiously.

Kenny opened the door to find Christophe, Craig, some blonde girl he'd take a second to remember momentarily, and...Tweek? What the fuck? Kenny stared at Tweek until Craig irritatedly pushed his way into Kenny's house, dragging Tweek behind him. Christophe actually _grinned_ at him from the doorway, his arm around the blonde girl. Kenny took his moment to try and remember the blonde.

She had a very soft, feminine face, even though her face was slightly thinner and longer than Jacky's, hers still had more of a young girl quality to it than Jacky's. Though Jacky's face was rounder, it was still very womanly. Her near platinum curly hair was stuffed into a side braid that ended just below her breasts, the shorter layers that couldn't be tamed into the braid feathered out and curled down in tendrils. Her spring green eyes were bright and inquisitive, rimmed with a sort of mossy blue at the bottom.

She wore a dark charcoal, feminine military jacket that ended at her waist, a light pink tiered tank underneath that showed the barest amount of cleavage and stopped about an inch above the waistband of her lowriding light blue skinny jeans sporting a single rip on the left thigh that Kenny suspected had purposefully been put there by the manufacturer. A boho style brown leather belt with a taupe flower buckle kept her pants from sinking any lower, and she too wore boots, though hers weren't nearly as cool as Jacky's. They were black ankle boots that had a sewn on bow near the top. She was also taller than Jacky by about three inches.

In her ear was a purple feather earring, and around her neck was a circular metal necklace with teardrop findings, each with its own black bead in the center. Her lips were full and pink, and Kenny was quite sure he'd love to have them wrapped around his-

"Kenny!" Craig said irritably, snapping his fingers in front of Kenny's face, eliciting and agitated scowl from the blond.

"What?"

"Where are the others?" He asked in the same irritated voice, though his face remained the same as always. A slight indent of one eyebrow being the only other give away of his sour mood.

"My room." He grumbled, jerking his thumb toward his room. He watched Craig and Tweek meander the way he'd indicated, still wondering what the fuck Tweek was doing there, before turning to the other two. Christophe was still grinning, and Kenny found it disconcerting to see him so..._interactive._

"You're Anette, right?" Kenny asked the girl with his best "flirting with a hot girl" smile.

"Oui. Anette Girard." She replied, her voice pleasant and lilting. A stark contrast to Jacky's rougher voice. She seemed entirely out of place as a mercenary. She'd do much better as a phone sex operator, Kenny decided.

"Ze others will be here soon." Christophe informed Kenny before heading to join the others in the room, Anette in tow. Kenny shut the door and followed them. He got to his room just in time to see Jacky leap up happily from her seat on the ground, inadvertantly pushing Tweek down in to Craig's lap in her haste.

"Christophe, mon cheri!" She coo'd as she wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a fervent kiss on his lips. Instead of growling and shoving her away as _everyone_ else in the room expected him to, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled away slightly, _chuckling. _

What the fuck?

"Jacky, Ma amour, it's been too long." He replied. She almost kissed him again before Tweek cleared his throat.

"So...um...you two are together?" He asked.

"No." They replied in unison, Anette watching them, looking slightly bitter. Everyone except Craig and Cartman exchanged glances, but decided to drop it as Christophe reluctantly joined the circle, flanked on either side by the girls, Kenny sitting between Craig and Jacky.

"Do we have a fucking plan?" Craig asked in annoyance.

"We _did_ but it sucked." Kenny replied, then narrowed his eyes at Craig. "The fuck's your problem, Tucker?"

"Nothing." He replied, sliding the briefest of glances toward Tweek. _Interesting_. Kenny wanted to pursue, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

"Plan?" He asked generally. Everyone looked around at eachother, obviously at a loss. He turned his attention to Christophe. "You know him almost as well as I do. Any ideas?" Immediately, his demeanor changed back into "professional" mode.

"We need to hit him where it 'urts. When you're with him, does he 'ave any weaknesses? Any shortcomings? Any traits or quirks that can be used against 'im?" Christophe asked, eyes boring into Kenny's as if he was searching for something. Kenny thought hard, aware that everyone's eyes were on him.

"Well, he fuckin' _loves_ torture, he gets bored easily, he-wait a minute!" Kenny's face lit up. "He has a serious inferiority thing going on with his dad. The couple times I've tried to ask him about his dad, he either got pissed and broken something on me, or sent me straight back to earth. And he's very adamant about no one else touching me while I'm down there." Christophe grinned.

"I think we 'ave found our leverage."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Half an hour later, there was another [and hopefully the last] knock on the door. Kenny wearily got up as the others continued to discuss the new plan, which he had to admit caused him a fair amount of anxiety. He passed Kevin on his way to the door.

"What's going on?" Kevin asked, meaning _have you figured anything out yet?_

"We're working on a plan." He replied as he continued to the door.

"Fill me in." Kevin said, following him.

"We haven't worked everything out ye-" He stopped short at the people who stood on the other side of the door. It was such a startling contrast, he almost wanted to laugh. A tall black teenager who looked about his age and a short asian who looked younger, but was probably older. Even their mode of dress and style were completely different. The taller male sported short cropped brown hair, a gray t-shirt, jeans and sneakers and light amber eyes. The asian boy had an "emo" haircut. A large chunk swept over his nose to hang in his right eye, shorter pieces feathered along his eyebrow, and the sides were razored and hit just below his jaw. The short layers were strategically spiked, favoring the right side, and the back was razored to about mid neck. He wore a black leather motorcycle jacket, black hoodie with the hood draped over the back of the jacket, dark blue ripped and worn skinny jeans, and black converse. He had a silver skull piercing in his right ear, and small black ball bearings just above his left eyebrow, in his lip and in the cartilage of his left ear.

"Uuuuh hi." Kenny said while Kevin tried not to stare at the odd couple.

"Yo. Is Chris here?" The asian boy asked.

"Yeah he's back there." He pointed once again to the hallway leading to his room. Without introducing himself, the boy pushed past Kenny and headed for his room.

"Sorry about him." The other boy said in a deep, rough English accent. "Name's Cayden. That was Ryunnosuke." He said, offering his hand. Kenny shook it and laughed a bit in annoyance.

"Kinda a dick, ain't he?" Kenny asked while Kevin returned to his own room.

"He can be, yeah. But then again, aren't we all?" He flashed Kenny a crooked grin, one that Kenny returned.

"Ain't that the truth. Come on, we're all in my room." He said, shutting the door and motioning Cayden to follow him.

Half an hour later, they'd devised the better part of a strategy, and were arguing the finer points, Kevin leaning in Kenny's doorway, offering his input on occasion.

"I am zaying zat weell not work!" Jacky yelled across the circle to Ryuunosuke.

"How the fuck could it not work!" He demanded, jamming his finger down onto the papers in front of him, causing them to crease at the point of impact.

"Look guys, I think-" Stan started to interject, but suddenly, everyone stopped. Something was...off. No one could quite put their fingers on it, but there was just this sudden ominous feeling. Even Kevin stood more alert in the door, his eyes darting down the hallway, between the kitchen and living room, eyes narrowed as he strained his ears and eyes for sign of anything amiss. But there was nothing. Just silence.

And then it started.

A slow, haunting electric guitar rythmically plucking a familiar but eerie tune. Then a deep, somewhat gravelly voice chimed in with lyrics that weren't meant to be so chilling.

_Sweet dreams are made of this_

_Who am I to disagree?_

_Travel the world and the seven seas_

_Everybody's looking for something_

_Some of them want to use you_

_Some of them want to get used by you_

_Some of them want to abuse you_

_Some of them want to be abused.._

Kenny felt fear rising in him as the eeriness of the song cut through the silence like a knife. "Kevin? Did you leave a radio on or something?" Slowly, eyes still trained on the hallway, Kevin shook his head. Suddenly, Kenny felt a burning in his arm. It started out mildly, but after a few seconds, it intensified until it felt like someone was taking a red hot poker to his skin. He screamed, uncaring that 22 pairs of eyes were now on him. The pain was so overwhelming, all he could do was scream _stop! stop! stop!_ over and over again in his head. As he cradled his arm, Kevin rushed to his side, pulling the sleeve of Kenny's hoodie up. Kenny didn't know what he expected, but this certainly wasn't it.

The scar Damien had left was now cut anew, the words red with the blood that was running down his arm in little rivulets, his skin red and hot to the touch, as if his arm was feverish. The word _coming_ was now bathed in blood. The whole room looked at eachother, then Cartman calmly got up and collected the guns he'd leaned in a corner of the kitchen. He deposited them on the floor, then grabbed the tools, giving them the same treatment, as Kenny's arm continued to burn and throb.

With a wicked glint in her eye, Jacky was the first to pick a gun, selecting a savage arms 111 fxp with a scope and a shoulder strap, and ran her hand lovingly along the barrel. Christophe went next, picking out an EAA Zestava PAP semi-automatic rifle, eyeing it, as if judging the usefulness, then seeming appeased and clutching it while he sat back patiently. After that, it was almost a mad scramble for weapons, Kenny of course excluding himself, letting his brother find him something, the pain from his arm blinding. Almost immediately after the weapons had been selected, a dull hum started, seeming to come from the floor. And the music became louder, the eerie words seeming to resonate around them.

The humming grew into a rumble, and with it came a rising fear in Kenny. Kyle and Stan moved to sit by him and Kevin, showing their support and hoping to calm him at least a little. Of course it did nothing but remind him of the fact that he'd dragged his friends into this and they could very well likely die tonight. Although the fear and pain had turned to the bile that was barely being kept at the back of his throat, he knew he wasn't going down without a fight. He only gave enough of a shit about himself to want to kill Damien. To end the torture. Mostly, he knew he didn't want his friends' efforts to go to waste. His friends' possible deaths...

He shakily stood up, ignoring Kevin's helpful hand, but accepting the gun that was pressed into his own. He dared a glance at his brother, and in that glance was everything he needed. Kevin knew that Kenny was going to do this, and Kenny knew that Kevin harbored the same determination and thirst he did for the end of this. The end of Damien. And he was going to kill or be killed.

By this point, the rumbling had become deafening, even drowning out the sound of the music. Everyone was on their feet, the mercenaries standing at alert, weapons poised, excited grins on a few faces. Cartman seemed calm, his own gun held to rest against his shoulder as he simply waited for something to happen. Craig took a protective stance in front of Tweek, both looking around, ready to strike or run if need be. Stan and Kyle also took protective stances, though Kenny had to laugh at the thought that he didn't think Kyle would be much protection if it came down to it. He was skinnier than him, and had much less muscle than either he or Stan did. But that didn't mean that Kenny didn't appreciate the support.

Suddenly, cracks began to appear in the floor beneath their feet. "What the fuck?" Kenny yelled, wondering if they were mistaken about a pending attack, and it was just a perfectly timed earthquake. But that wouldn't explain the music...

The cracks widened, and everyone in danger of falling through them moved to the other side of the room with Kenny, all silently watching, waiting. The cracks widened even more and the most grotesque thing Kenny had ever seen emerged from them; hands. Rotted, decaying, reeking hands. The color drained from Kenny's face as he and the others watched the repugnant limbs struggle to drag the attached bodies over the edge of the cracks. Then everyone acted at once. Christophe began shouting orders, the mercenaries began shooting, Anette surprising Kenny with her deadly accuracy and serious expression. Despite the many shots that rang loudly through the house, the bodies kept coming. reaching the edge and turning toward the group, all in varying states of putrefaction.

Christophe didn't even need to order everyone out of the room. They were almost stumbling over eachother in their haste to get away from the horrors forming before them, except Cartman who seemed to thoroughly enjoy blasting holes into the decay, watching large chunks of rotting meat almost rhythmically blown away. Kenny grabbed Cartman by the back of his coat and started dragging him back with the rest of the group, into the hallway that passed Kevin and their parent's rooms. They couldn't go into the living room because the bodies had begun pouring in from there as well, and they knew it would be ludicrous to evacuate into the cellar.

"Come on, dumbass!" Kenny yelled, regretting the use of his still intensely burning arm. He'd just let go of Cartman to let him follow on his own, when another crack opened up at his feet, much faster than the others, and a particularly unpleasant piece of flesh rose up from within and locked around Kenny's ankle, effectively tripping him. His face hit the carpet, there was a _crack,_ then the pain was sudden and intense. As he was yanked down, digging his fingers into the ground, trying to find something to catch on or hold on to, he saw the trail of blood staining the floor. His nose had been broken.

Desperately, he scrabbled for the gun that had been knocked from his hand on impact. He managed to grab the shoulder strap and pull it toward him, then grab it with his scarred arm, the pain dulled by the new pain from his nose. He pointed the gun downward, and even though his vision swam, he managed to shoot the offending appendage. Although it still clasped his ankle, it stopped pulling. Kenny let out a small sigh of relief before he remembered he was still hanging off the edge of what could only be described as a widening abyss as even more gnarled, mangled bodies started grasping at him. Just as a yell arose in his throat, more hands grasped his arms. His head snapped upward, ready to shoot until he realized it was Cartman and Jacky. They hauled him out of the crevice, each using only one arm, shooting down with the other. Temporary relief flooded him as he was pulled away from the edge.

"Keep shooting." Jacky instructed Cartman as she took a brief moment to kneel next to Kenny, whip off her backpack, and root around inside until she found a sharp, serrated knife and a handkerchief. She held one end of the cloth in her teeth, holding the other end taught with her hand so she could cut it into two thin strips. Once that was done, she replaced the rest of the shredded cloth and was about to do the same with her knife when she apparently decided against it. Instead, she grabbed a long black elastic strap, one the ends of which, velcro was sewn. In the middle, there was a small holster. She quickly secured the strip around her leg, then slid the knife into the holster. As she did that, Kenny wadded up the strips of cloth and stuffed them into his nose to staunch the bleeding, holding back his pained yells. His vision swam again and he felt nauseous, but he took the time to vaguely wonder how Cartman had gotten in front of him. As Jacky roughly pulled him to his feet, he noticed the large hole in the wall and almost laughed; Cartman had crashed through the connecting wall of the hallway and his parent's room and come out the other side. He barely had time to muse on this however, before Jacky was picking up her gun and tightly gripping his wrist again, dragging him forward as Cartman pulled up the rear, shooting anything that came after them. After a few more bodies, he'd emptied his rounds, but more kept coming. He decided it wasn't worth it to try and refill the bullets while the zombies, as it were, were pouring in so thickly in pursuit, so instead, he followed Kenny and Jacky.

They reached the end of the hallway with the rest of the group. Kevin pulled Kenny to him, quickly assessing him, despite their pursuers growing ever nearer. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." Kenny replied as casually as he could, though his tongue was thick around his words with the effort to keep the bile down.

"Zere's no time for that." Christophe snapped, gunning down one that dared get too close, momentary satisfaction crossing his face as the body fell with a thick, wet thud. Kenny was honestly surprised that he wasn't more horrified by what was happening, but then...he figured all the years of being sent to hell and seeing terror such as this happening in a more controlled environment had somewhat desensitized him to _this_. However, he wasn't desensitized to the repulsive smell, the moans or the slimy feel of their skin when it came into contact with his, grabbing at him before he could gun them down, leaving a disgusting, slick residue on him. He tried to wrinkle his nose in dismay but was reminded by the waves of pain rolling up and out from it that his nose was broken. His first instinct was to press his hand to the damaged area, but of course that did more harm than good.

Without realizing it, everyone had formed a half circle, backed against the wall that ended the hallway, praying that nothing came through it or the window pressed painfully to Craig and Christophe's backs, the relentless horde still advancing, stepping over their fallen comrades in their mindless mission.

"Well, fuck!" Craig spat as he used the butt of his rifle to knock one away from Tweek, an ashen Tweek taking the opportunity to shoot it. Craig turned to Christophe "This isn't working. The fuck do we do now?"

"Ze roof." Christophe offered immediately. Anette stared at him.

"'Ow can we get up zere from 'ere? Eef we go outside, surely zey weell follow." Christophe grinned the grin of a madman.

"Not if we seemply go up." He said, pointing his gun toward the ceiling.

"What the hell are you planning to-" Before Kevin could finish his sentence, Christophe blasted a perfect circle into the ceiling, a large hunk of plaster and shingles falling onto two of the bodies, flattening them and splattering blood and gore on those nearest to them. Looking pleased with his handiwork, Christophe turned to Kenny, his grin even more maniacal.

"After you, my friend."

* * *

**Here it is, my lovelies! Again, sorry it took so long, but I really **_**did**_** try to get it out faster than the other chapters. And I would have, but I started a new job a couple weeks ago and it really eats up my time. XD -Cough, cough- The gore scenes will be better in the next chapter, I swear. Better descriptions. And again, thank you for continuing to read! I love you all! **

**Please excuse the awful French accents. XD Fun fact [maybe not. XD] If I'm correct, Cauchemar obsedan means "haunting nightmare," and that's the original name of this fic. I still save it on my computer as that, then change it when I upload. XD**

**Only two chapters left, you guys! -hears millions of tables being flipped- I was THINKING for my next projects of doing each of the boys' stories after this, you know how they deal with everything and such. I won't give away too much, but they of course will be horror. XD What do you think?**

**And per request, here's a list of the songs I usually listen to when I write. The one's I've collected up till now, anyway, excluding the ones I've actually put IN the chapters .**

**Billy Talent-**

**Bloody nails and broken hearts**

**Fallen Leaves**

**Rusted from the rain**

**The dead can't testify**

**White sparrows**

**Blaqk Audio- **

**Stiff Kittens**

**Dev-**

**Killer**

**Monster**

**Drive A-**

**Loss of Desire**

**Dropkick Murphys-**

**Loyal to no one**

**Garbage-**

**Why do you love me?**

**Ludo-**

**Love me dead**

**Oh Land-**

**Son of a gun**

**MSI-**

**Shut me up**

**Never wanted to dance**

**Nightwish-**

**Storytime**

**Nemo**

**Scaretale**

**Of Monsters and Men-**

**Little talks [I don't know why, but it reminds me of Craig somehow. XD]**

**Rise Against-**

**Blood to bleed**

**Broken Mirrors**

**Ready to Fall**

**Good left undone**

**To them these streets belong**

**Tip the scales**

**Satellite**

**Skillet-**

**Monster**

**Whispers in the dark**

**Streetlight Manifesto-**

**What a wicked gang are we**

**Sum 41-**

**Jessica kills**

**Reason to believe**

**There's no solution**

**Blood in my eyes**

**We're the same**

**Screaming bloody murder**

**Taproot-**

**Poem**

**The Bravery-**

**Hatefuck**

**I've seen the future [not fitting for a horror, but it jazzes me up. XD Plus, you gotta love the line "we'll drink to our annihilation " XD]**

**The Downtown Fiction-**

**I just wanna run**

**The Faint-**

**The Geeks were right**

**Worked up so sexual**

**The Used-**

**Meant to die**

**Blood on my hands**

**Hospital**

**Paralyzed**

**Back of your mouth**

**Oh! And I am actually drawing Anette and Jacky as we speak, though I don't know when I'll be done with them because..I'm really slow. XD And I'm drawing my little cousins' bday presents. o_X They will be up on my DA, though. If you want it, ask me or look on my profile page. I believe it's up there, anyway. XD**


	9. Filth

"How the fuck do you suggest I get up there?" Kenny asked dryly, rolling his eyes at the Frenchman, his voice embarrassingly nasally. Christophe grinned as Cayden stepped forward, leaned forward and cupped his hands out for Kenny. Kenny looked at them skeptically.

"Really?" He asked incredulously. He didn't have much time to speculate, however, as one of the corpses pawed at the back of his hoodie to be blown away seconds later by Ryu, Kenny's back and the back of his head splattered with warm blood and slimy parts he could feel slipping down and off his own body. Luckily, he was saved from the sickening coppery smell of warm blood and flesh. Still, he shuddered visibly, resisting the urge to vomit. The disgusted and horrified faces of Stan, Kyle and Kevin weren't lost on him, and neither was Tweek's dry heaving as he turned green. Kenny steeled himself against the repulsion in his hood, threatening to slide in and down the back of his shirt, and stepped onto Cayden's hands, placing a hand on his shoulder for support. Cayden straightened and effortlessly tossed Kenny up through the hole in his roof.

Kenny landed painfully on his stomach, a broken shingle scraping along his elbow, taking out a large chunk of flesh.

"Ow! Mother_fucker!_" Kenny yelled, scrambling to his feet to look at the damage. He'd barely cleared the hole when Kevin was thrown up behind him, almost falling back down. Kenny hurried over to help him, blood dripping from his new wound, and still slowly seeping from his scar, creating small splatters of blood on the broken and misplaced shingles, and threatening to make his hand slippery as it trickled down his arm. He tightened his grip on Kevin as he hauled him up to the roof. As Kevin opened his mouth to thank Kenny, his thanks fell short when he saw Kenny's new wound.

"Christ, Kenny..." He mused as he took his brother's arm and inspected the wound. It wasn't very deep, but it had small pieces of shingle and flecks of dirt in it and would have to be cleaned.

"Uh, Kev? I appreciate the concern, but now isn't the time to be motherly. We have like a thousand zombies trying to kill us right now. My elbow is the least of our worries." Kenny said, trying to pull his arm away from his brother as Jacky came up next, seemingly launching _herself_ through the gaping hole. She landed expertly on her feet in a crouched position, one knee on the surface of the roof, then stood up and brushed herself off, looking pleased. The pleased expression turned to one of annoyance, however, when she spotted the new wound on Kenny's arm.

"_Mon dieu._ You are like a child. Always getting 'urt. Let me see zat." She said, shouldering Kevin out of the way and opening her backpack, pulling out what was left of the handkerchief and tying it around the wound to staunch the bleeding. "You weell 'ave to clean eet on your own time. I do not 'ave ze equipment or patience to be cleaneeng ozzer people's wounds."

"Yeah, thanks." Kenny said, disgruntled. She simply flashed a grin at him, then ambled over to help Tweek up, who had inexplicably become covered in blood in the short time Kenny had occupied the roof. Tweek gave Jacky a weak, appreciative smile as he was pulled up, then headed toward Kenny, wobbling slightly. The other two went to the hole to help pull people up as the others continued to gun down the persistent horde, bodies falling thickly on top of other downed bodies, or parts of them.

In a matter of minutes, Anette was the only one left, Christophe and Cayden reaching down to pull her up as she gunned down the horde that was closing in on her. Suddenly, the mass stopped moaning and clawing, and all heads turned toward the rear of the congression. Knowing something was wrong, Anette, Christophe and Cayden paused as well, Anette still on the ground, but with her right arm up, gripped by the boys. The crowd began to part, and anxiety welled within Anette, starting in her chest and rising to her throat.

A wiry, thin, gray corpse emerged from the crowd. He seemed to have better motor skills than the others as he walked, rather than limped or dragged, though he was bent from the waist as someone with bad posture. His thin, angular face was rotted only at the left cheek, leaving most of the gray skin to pose the implication that he was recently deceased, or moreso than the others at least. The teeth hiding behind the purpled lips that weren't chipped or broken ended in sharp points, perpetually visible because of the creature's heavy, rattled panting. The thin, veiny hands he held somewhat awkwardly at his chest also ended in sharp points, though it was impossible to tell if the fingers themselves had been manufactured that way, or if it was the fingernails that had been made into weapons. The deadened, almost milky eyes suggesting a once blue hue focused on Anette, the lids drooping slightly, and a macabre, spine-chilling grin stole slowly over his face.

He tilted his head as if considering Anette, and in that instant, all three knew what he was going to do.

Christophe and Cayden hastily pulled on Anette, her face ashen as she jerked her gun back up, finger shaky as it found the trigger. The instant she pulled it, the corpse rushed at her, running _into_ the bullet and not stopping. She watched the bullet sink into his skull, watched the blood burst and dribble down his face, yet he did not slow down as Christophe and Cayden pulled Anette off the ground, Cayden managing to grip under her left arm, officially interfering with her shooting capability. She made desperate noises as he neared her, growling excitedly like an animal.

She was only halfway up when he reached her, slashing at her leg with his clawed hands, effortlessly and effectively ripping through her jeans and flesh. She screamed in fear and pain as he dug his claws into her calf, hooking her and pulling her toward him. The boys above her were yelling and swearing, tightening their grips on her and pulling harder.

The corpse attached to her swiftly leaned in and sunk his teeth into her leg, seemingly unfeeling of the heavy kicks she was landing on his head with her good leg, or the frantic thrashing of her injured one. He whipped his head to he side, forcefully ripping off a large chunk of her leg. She screamed again, head tipped back and eyes tightly pinched shut. Blood practically poured from her leg, soiling her jeans and dripping onto the floor as the corpse satisfactorily chewed on the flesh hanging from his mouth, retracting his claws from her leg to better grip and rip pieces of his meal.

Christophe and Cayden took the opportunity to haul her up in one quick pull, laying her as gently as they could on the rooftop. She pushed herself into a sitting position, legs outstretched in front of her, violently shaking hands hovering over the wound, knowing it needed to be treated, but unwilling to touch it. Christophe knelt by her side, his face a mix of worry and anger as he looked for something that he could use to staunch the bleeding.

"Get out of my way!" Jacky snarled, pushing Christophe aside and kneeling next to Anette. She whipped her backpack off, rooted inside and found a roll of gauze. Without cleaning off the blood, she wrapped the gauze around Anette's leg, applying enough pressure to stop the bleeding, and expertly ignoring Anette's pained shrieks, muffled when she stuffed her own fist into her mouth. Jacky grumbling all the while about having to treat someone else's wounds because everyone around her was too stupid to have packed supplies.

Christophe leveled a glare at her, unappreciative of her hostility when there were bigger things happening around them and was about to tell her so, when a sudden thumping beneath his feet stopped him. Everyone paused, staring down at the surface beneath them. _Thump_.

Christophe got to his feet and made his way back to the hole, peering down as Jacky and Cayden helped Anette up, Jacky being a bit more rough than was necessary, and Cayden reprimanding her for it. Christophe had become uneasy about the fact that the house had darkened impossibly in the few minutes since Anette's ascent.

Suddenly, a snarling face appeared just inches from his own, fangs bared frighteningly, blood dripping from them and smeared around the grayed mouth.

"Jesus fuckeeng Christ!" Christophe yelled, instinctively shooting as he shoved himself backward. Bullets riddled the exposed flesh as the monster fell back to the ground below. Before it disappeared into darkness, there was a distinct look of new rage on its face as his eyes locked murderously with Christophe's. There was a moment of unsettling silence as everyone waited, the others not exactly sure what had happened, but not wanting to speak lest it bring new horrors to them.

Then it started again.

_Thump. Thump._ This seemed to cause a chain reaction, as the noises grew more frequent and began coming from different spots until there was a petrifying chorus.

No one spoke. No one moved as they listened, the vibrations beneath their feet adding to the irrationalities running through their heads, fueling the barely controlled fear. Then suddenly, Christophe was yelling, hurrying back toward them.

"Everybody back! They're breaking through ze roof." The last part ended in a snarl as he rejoined the group. Tweek looked downright nauseous at this new bit of information, and Craig immediately put a protective arm around him. Kenny shared a look with Kyle and Stan who were both pale, but none of them really wanted to explore whatever was going on with the other two, as there were more pressing matters currently causing cracks in the ceiling below them.

"What the fuck do we do, Chris?" Ryu asked in frustration, voicing the question Kenny couldn't bring himself to ask. Christophe didn't reply immediately, taking a moment to grab Jacky's backpack from her and fish a cigarette and her lighter from it. He took a long drag of the cigarette, fully aware that all eyes were on him.

"We wait." He replied finally, gazing down at the hole with a look of mild contemplative disgust. "It's only a matter of time before 'ee shows up now. 'Ee's getting desperate." Some sort of tremor went through Kenny, traveling down the length of his spine. It must have showed physically, because Kevin raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. He simply shook his head, indicating he was fine. Kevin gave him a look rife with disbelief, but dropped it. Kenny barely took notice of Cartman moving to stand by his side, gun lazily held in and upright, yet ready position. His eyes were glued to the swiftly widening cracks and the increase in noise and frequency below them.

Kenny chanced a glance at Jacky and saw that she was still kneeling next to Anette, though she was now on one knee, arm resting against her bent knee, her other hand resting atop the gun on the rooftop just in front of her, ready to grab it when needed. Her eyes were fixated on the hole as well, eyes glittering excitedly as she watched and waited.

With one particularly loud thump, the first hand broke through the battered and broken shingles, finding base with its clawed hands. Anette's eyes immediately widened, and she tried to get up, but the pain in her leg kept her grounded. Kenny surmised that this must have been what attacked her. The monster began pulling itself up, and Jacky picked up her gun, a sinister grin on her face as she aimed, waiting until the face emerged, then pulling the trigger. She shot quickly and continuously, blasting the already bullet ridden face with more holes, though it didn't slow down. Instead of becoming frightened, Jacky seemed enlivened. She fired her last shot, then stood, wrenching her knife from its holster on her leg and twirling the handle in her hand. Cayden tried to pick Anette up, but she shook her head, even as she let out a pained groan.

"Non. I can do eet. I can steel shoot. I am not an eenfant." She said, her words clipped through her gritted teeth. Cayden nodded in understanding, instead gripping her arm and helping her up. She almost fell back down, but managed to steady her shaking leg enough to stand.

Oblivious to Anette's plight behind her, Jacky took a moment to thoughtlessly severe the monster's hand from its connecting wrist, enjoying the resounding animalistic scream a little too much for Kenny's taste. More hands kept coming, however, and she was forced to turn her attention back to the monster now making its way slowly toward her like a cat stalking its prey. Craig raised his gun to shoot it, but Ryu grabbed his wrist, shaking his head.

"Don't. She can handle herself. Don't waste your bullets." He indicated a hand that was attempting to fasten around Craig's ankle. Without a word, Craig shot down at it, blasting a large hole into it and severing a couple fingers. By this time, a few of the bodies had made their way to the surface and were bearing down on Kenny. Kenny was amazed by his own accuracy as he blasted a hole through the head of one, effectively dropping it to the ground and splattering himself with more bits. His brother made a disgusted face beside him, but wisely chose not to comment.

Kenny heard laughter and looked over in time to see Ryu laughing a twisted laugh of amusement as Cartman had apparently forgone any kind of refined fighting, such as it was, and grabbed one of the disfigured bodies by it's half rotten head and wrenched it to the side, a look of rarely seen sick pleasure on his face. He wasn't annerved by it, because for some reason it seemed fitting. The one emotion that Cartman generally showed _was_ sick satisfaction or excitement. Tweek, however, seemed perturbed enough to stop and give Cartman a look that was equal parts horrified and disgusted Kenny wondered what Tweek was even doing here, if he couldn't handle something like this.

Kenny's attention was sharply brought back by the intense burn that had rekindled on his arm. He bit down on the corner of his hood closest to him before realizing it had blood on it. He promptly spit it out of his mouth and spat on the roof, trying to dispel the coppery taste. His pain went unnoticed by the monsters still pouring onto the roof, as one swiftly made it's way to him, teeth bared in a gleeful snarl, and slashed at his face. Kenny let out a strangled yell as the claws made contact with his cheek and injured nose. He felt his eyes water at the throbbing, electric pain coursing through his nose, and the stinging from the now bleeding marks across his face.

"Oh, you sonovabitch." He snarled as it took another swipe. He ducked, grabbed the arm, ignoring the pain in his own, grabbed his gun, and slammed it into the skeletal face. A satisfying crack resounded, and it let out a pained growl. Kenny answered it by slamming the gun against it's skull harder, visibly denting and cracking it. The decayed body went limp, and Kenny released it to fall to the ground at his feet, panting from the pain and exertion.

Suddenly, all the monsters stopped, their demeanors changing immediately from mindless and angry to expectant as they looked behind them. Anyone who was fighting one downed it before following the other's gazes, knowing what could only come next. They waited in silence, the only sounds coming from the open mouths expelling short, strained breaths.

Without warning, there was an explosion underneath the hole in the roof few feet away from them, shingles and debris were send flying upward, one slicing along the side of Kevin's head. The cloud of dust and dirt was so thick that Kenny couldn't see anything, but he heard his brother swear loudly somewhere to his left.

"Kevin?" Kenny yelled, coughing against the dust trying to settle in his lungs. After a few seconds, the dust cleared enough so that he could make out the outline of his brother clutching his head. He swiftly made his way toward him, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he continued to cough an choke. As he reached his brother, a familiar, arrogant voice rang out from somewhere in the dissipating cloud.

"Long time no see, Kenny."

**Next chapter's going to be SUPER loaded, guys, so be prepared. Also, it may take me a while to finish because I'm trying to get stuff done for a possible table for the AA AT ANIME BANZAI! WHOO YEAH! :D**

**And so….we come to the last chapter. I have a very disgusting, vomit inducing [hopefully. XD] Ending in mind, and I've been waiting to do it since I started chapter one. XD**

**Thank you all for continuing to read! I love you all very much, and I'm sorry it takes me so long to get these out. DXSongs for this chapter [if I repeat some, please forgive me. XD]**

**AFI:**

**Miss Murder**

**Celluloid Dream**

**Alice Cooper:**

**Poison**

**Billionaire Boys Club:**

**Super Ok**

**Dropkick Murphys:**

**State of Massachusetts Framing Hanley:**

**Lollipop**

**Har Mar Superstar:**

**Cut me up**

**Linkin Park:**

**Blackout**

**Burn it downBleed it out**

**Faint**

**In the end**

**The Catalyst**

**Valentine's day**

**Marina and the Diamonds:**

**Lies**

**Living Dead**

**Miss Y**

**Power and Control**

**Sex yeah**

**Murder by Death:**

**Brother**

**Panic! At the disco:**

**Let's kill tonight**

**Sixx A.m:**

**This is gonna hurt**

**Van Nuys**

**Skid Row: **

**18 and Life**

**The Good Natured:Your body is a Machine**

**The Offspring:**

**Fire and Ice**

**The White Stripes: **

**Air near my fingers**


	10. End

"….You motherfucker." Kenny growled venomously as he reached his brother, squinting through the dissipating dust to try and assess the damage inflicted. Damien tsked patiently like a mother about to chastise her child.

"Come on, Kenny, you know you missed me." Even though Kenny couldn't see him, he had the distinct impression that Damien was running his tongue over his teeth in a sexual, hungry manner.

" Yeah, like I miss having barbed wire shoved up my ass." He replied with a sarcastic toxicity.

"Ooo, that _was_ a fun day, wasn't it?" Damien purred, sick enthusiasm laying somewhere beneath the teasing. Kevin turned to Kenny, eyes impossibly wide, eyes searching, asking the question he couldn't.

Kenny answered him with an nondescript shrug, his casually emotionless face giving away nothing, the worried arm around his brother's shoulders tightening it's grip being the only indicator to the affirmative. This incited anger within Kevin. _You sick, inhuman fuck. I'll rip you to fucking pieces._ The thought was growled acidly inside his head as anger threatened to blind him. Kenny sensed it and gave him a warning look. Kevin nodded once only because he knew trying anything now would prove pointless and might get Kenny killed.

By now the dust had dispersed, and Kenny took the moment to look at Damien. He took in the familiar short black hair messily parted over his right eye, the bangs hanging lazily just below it, the other, smaller side of the part framing his left eye, the blazing red glowing with malicious electricity. Two slightly longer chunks clung to the skin in front of his ears, ending at the lobes, the tips newly tainted red to break up the similarly colored streaks running sparsely through the rest of his hair, a few spots of color in his bangs as well. His pale face was punctured with as many piercing as he could seemingly get in; a ring and black labret stud in his lower lip, two small rings at the end of his eyebrow on the left side, black tapers in the lobes of his ears, and various other red, black and silver rings in the cartilage of both ears.

Kenny noticed with no small amount of annoyance that Damien had chosen to wear the clothes he knew Kenny loved the most on him, not that he'd ever verbally expressed this to him. He was in a semblance of a black straight jacket with a mandarin collar that hit the sides of his throat, the restraints in the form of purposeless belts that started just at the outer curve of his chest and ribcage, ending at the middle of the chest where the buttons to close it were. There were five on each side, starting just below his collar bone and ending just above his waist, the jacket itself cutting across the tops of his thighs. The sleeves detached under his shoulders, the rest of the sleeve hanging under his elbows, held together by long black strips of fabric lined with silver snaps. The jacket was open to reveal the plain black shirt underneath, the v of the neck resting against his collarbone.

His skinny jeans faded from gray to black, starting at the top, and encasing his feet were converse. Pure black, save for the customized drips of blood running down the sides to pool at the bottom, against the top of the rubber sidewall.

_Shit._ Kenny thought, barely suppressing his shiver. Even if he hated the fucker, loathed him with every fiber of his being, he couldn't deny he was a sexy bastard. Besides his natural air of menacing, arrogant sexuality that, in close proximity such as this, generally sent Kenny's resolve plummeting, the outfit he'd purposely chosen would under any other circumstance, have Kenny ripping them off. The red streaks in his hair only enhanced the physical attraction.

Right now, however, Kenny was too anxious, too angry, too tired, too irritable, to paralyzed, too paranoid and too livid to think of anything but bringing everything to an end.

He looked around and could see all his friends and companions standing either a few feet to the side or behind him, all waiting for Christophe to make a move, all holding weapons. His friends except Cartman and Craig looked fearful, the former patiently cracking his neck as he waited, the latter standing shoulder to shoulder with Tweek, his eyes narrowed with rancor in Damien's direction. Cayden was expressionless and Ryu looked bored. Anette was breathing laborously as she continued to stand on her now intensely shaking legs, using her gun as a prop to keep from falling. Jacky once again was oozing a sort of excited, dangerous sensuality as she looked at Damien like a prime hunk of steak, and Christophe was simply smirking at Kevin's side, arms crossed over his chest, his gun having been discarded, being deemed useless.

"So you finally show your cowardly face, _diable fils_." Damien clucked his tongue condescendingly.

"Aaw, come on, _Christophe._" The name came in a sarcastic whine, "And here I was so happy to see you. It's been a while since I've kicked an ass as fine as yours." He mockingly slid his tongue along his lips, the tongue ring that Kenny knew all too well glinting in the light from the almost full moon and that of the streetlight in front of Kenny's house that lazily filtered up. He winked playfully at Kenny, which raised Kevin's hackles and made Kenny feel sick. Christophe, however, didn't bat an eye, his smirk still in place as he shifted to retrieve the ever-present shovel from his back, placing the tip of the metal against the roof-top and leaning against the handle. Somehow, it was only during this back and forth banter that Kenny remembered his brother's wound. He let go of his brother, gripping the top of the left sleeve of his hoodie that had inexplicably received a large rip, stretching it as taught as he could, then grabbing the bottom of the sleeve with his left hand and pulled. The sleeve almost came off in one pull. He leaned down and ripped the rest off with his teeth, then gently removed his brother's hand from his head, wincing slightly at the amount of blood on the appendage and now running freely down the side of his face. He quickly tied the severed sleeve around his brother's head, careful not to put too much pressure on his temples. He hoped it would be sufficient enough to stop the bleeding.

No words were exchanged between them, but Kevin gave Kenny a small smile of gratitude. They were both brought back by Christophe's provoking retort.

"Mmm, speeking of fine asses…your little boy toy 'ere 'as a nice one 'imself." Kenny was almost appalled by the comment until he remembered that this was the plan. Good. That meant it was starting. Damien's eyes blazed, but other than that, his face remained the same.

"Oh, don't I know it." He purred, perhaps a little more venomously than he intended. Christophe, pleased with the reaction, closed the space between him and Kenny, wrapping his arms lovingly around his waist, the shovel clenched in one hand, resting against Kenny's opposing hip. Even though Kevin knew this was all an act, it still made him uneasy to see his brother like that with…a guy. Especially when Christophe rested his chin against the taller male's shoulder, sending a very intended smirk Damien's way, the hand not occupied by the shovel languidly sliding up Kenny's torso, his shirt rising with Christophe's hand to reveal the tanned, taught skin underneath.

"'Ow about we finish this so we can officially get 'im out of ze picture?" Christophe crooned against Kenny's neck. The whole plan seemed…rather out of place when thought about in correlation to their current situation, but their goal wasn't accuracy. It was to piss Damien off and end this shit once and for all.

Damien's eyes blazed brighter, practically their own source of luminosity in the darkness, the murderous intent evident as his own arrogant smirk slowly made way to a resentful scowl.

"What the hell is this?" He demanded, eyes locked with Kenny's as Kenny narrowed his eyes in projected barely contained pleasure, all the while feeling _very_ uncomfortable and exposed.

"What? You think I don't date when I'm alive?" He replied in an expertly breathless voice, as if trying to hold back a moan. Something Kenny was humiliatingly well-versed in.

"No. I'm more than enough for you." Although Damien's tone was authoritative, Kenny could sense the desperate need for validation buried within the comment, and he could tell Christophe did too by the way his hand traveled higher, the way his lips softly caressed Kenny's neck in a barely there whisper. Then he said the words that would inexorably undo Damien.

"He's mine now." It was said in a way that exuded the notion of personal supremacy, even as Kenny felt him tense minutely against him.

Damien was on them in seconds. Christophe shoved Kenny into his brother just as Damien reached him, bowling Christophe over and knocking him to the ground, his face a mask of fury as he landed a punch to Christophe's face, connecting mostly with his nose, causing a twinge of empathetic pain to course through Kenny's own now mostly numbed nose.

"What the fuck did you just say!" Damien yelled, pummeling a somehow laughing Christophe. As if these were trigger words, all the previously stationary monsters surrounding them jolted back into motion, the one nearest Kyle catching him by surprise as it lunged at him with enough force to also knock _him_ to the ground, the corpse following. Kyle tried to get his foot underneath to kick it off, but instead let out a pained yell as the creature on top of him bit into his shoulder, ripping off a large chunk of flesh even through his jacket.

"AH! FUCK!" Kyle let out a strained scream, still struggling with the creature on top of him.

"Holy shit! Kyle!" Stan yelled from a few feet away where he was holding his gun in front of him to stave off the monster that was snarling and clawing at him with purpose. He angrily shoved the thing back with his gun, then struck it across the face with the barrel, sending it to the ground. Not bothering to check if it was dead or not, he bolted towards Kyle, too incensed to even think of simply shooting it from where he was. Cartman got there first however and physically wrenched the monster from Kyle, throwing it to the ground and using the butt of his rifle to smash the skull in, creating an unpleasant squelching, blood splattering all over the lower part of Cartman's shins, and Kyle's left arm, the skull caving in grotesquely.

After kicking it to make sure it was dead, Cartman reached down and hauled Kyle up by his uninjured arm. "You owe me, Jew."

Kyle glared, holding his hand to his gaping shoulder, panting heavily "Yeah…. yeah."

"Shit, Kyle!" Stan yelled, hurrying up to them and swiftly ripping off the rest of Kyle's already tattered sleeve, following Kenny's example and wrapping it around the wound as well as he could, even though his normally steady hands were shaking. Kyle had to bite into his arm to keep from screaming as the pain radiating from his wound throbbed and itched, as if metal had somehow gotten in there.

Jacky was suddenly there, throwing a severed portion of her gauze at him irritably. "'Ere. Take zees. I swear to christ, men are such eediots. Can't even breeng ze basics…"

Stan took the gauze, muttering a "thanks" before wrapping up the wound _over _the sleeve, Kyle's eyes pinched shut as he bit down harder.

"Mmm….'ow much do you want to bet I can get 'im from 'ere?" Came the slow but enlivened question. Stan looked at her in confusion to see she was staring with wicked intent at Damien, still wrestling with Christophe as Kenny tried to fight his way toward them through the horde that was hell bent on keeping them apart, probably through some unspoken command of their master's. She held her knife by the tip, mentally lining it up with her target by flicking her wrist sharply forward as one would when getting ready to throw a dart.

"You…no way. He's on the other side of the roof!" Stan exclaimed, more in shock that she would try to make shot like that when he was on top of Christophe, constantly in motion, and when corpses were continuously coming in and out of her line of fire. She flashed him a grin, then she flicked her wrist expertly.

Damien felt a sharp, searing pain in his right thigh, causing him to pause. He didn't scream or indicate he was in any sort of pain. He simply stared down at it, his hand hovering to the side of it as if to pull it out, but he didn't. He glared in Jacky's direction, hand still hovering, eyes electrified with renewed intent. Christophe took the opportunity to get his foot under Damien and kick him off.

Damien landed hard on the rooftop, his head hitting the surface, momentarily disorienting him. When his senses came back, Christophe was standing over him, shovel raised, bloody face a mix of sick excitement and fury. Damien leveled a glare at him and wrenched the knife from his leg, then narrowed his eyes challengingly.

Just as Christophe was about to strike Damien, a horrified scream thick with agony resounded from somewhere behind them. Damien smirked.

"Sheet! Anette!" Christophe immediately turned, running back through the horde, furiously swinging his shovel at any corpses that thought to impede him. Disregarding the plan, uncaring that he just _had_ him.

Damien slowly, gracefully stood, watching Kenny and his brother desperately fighting off the tight circle of clawing, snarling corpses surrounding them, before redirecting his attention to the French girl now lying on the ground, writhing and shrieking in pain.

God how he loved this part.

Christophe reached Anette just as her whole body began jerking and shaking violently, Cayden and Ryu acting as bodyguards, keeping the horde away from her as Christophe knelt beside her to frantically assess what was wrong.

"Anette? Anette! _Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?" _He scanned her body, looking for the source of her pain and found it in her leg injury. It had rapidly become infected, the skin an angry red, tinted with a sickly grayish green. The exposed flesh underneath having taken on the texture, color and smell of rancid meat, a yellowy puss oozing from it. The smell alone would have made Christophe sick if his attention hadn't been raptly caught by the grayish color spreading impossibly quickly up her leg, disappearing into what was left of her jeans above the gaping hole.

"_Merde! Christophe, Ça fait mal!" _She groaned in misery as she began to jerk and shake. Everywhere the grayness spread, she felt like her skin was melting away, her muscles tearing apart and liquefying. As it traveled over her chest, she let out a scream that halfway through turned into desperate, frenzied wheezes; she couldn't breathe. Her lungs had failed. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe.

Christophe's eyes widened with a fear he never showed, and yet he knew there was nothing he could do. It was at this point that Jacky was at his side, her demeanor more aggressively fearful than his own.

"_Anette! Se lever! SE LEVER_!" She screamed down at her, shaking her violently. Anette's eyes bulged as her wheezing became raspy as she tried to suck in air, Jacky's shaking making it even more impossible.

"_Jacky! Arrêter_!" Christophe yelled, grabbing her wrists angrily. Anette fell back to the ground, still wheezing in a way that sent chills down Christophe's spine. As the gray crept up her neck and face, her eyes began to roll into the back of her head, a sure sign that she was passing out and soon would asphyxiate.

"Sheet! SHEET!" Christophe yelled in frusration. He was barely aware of Cayden shouting something to him, but he didn't know what it was. He watched as her eyes sunk into her skull, and in that instant, he knew she was gone. But that didn't stop her skin from transforming. Small raised bumps began forming, quickly growing, turning yellow in color, then popping and festering. Her hair thinned and turned white until all that was left were thin wisps still clinging to the rapidly rotting flesh of her skull.

Jacky couldn't watch anymore. It wasn't that she hadn't seen her fair share of half rotten corpses, it was the fact that it was happening before her very eyes. In real time, as it were. She turned to Christophe and slapped him across the face to get his attention. He was snapped out of his disgusted, horrified stupor, and turned to Jacky, holding his cheek, livid.

"WHAT ZE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?" He yelled.

"We 'ave to end zis! Now!" Came Jacky's frantic retort. Christophe was floored by her behavior, by how frenzied she had become, by how insensitive she seemed. And then he remembered. Jacky couldn't handle her emotions. He knew from experience that her "feeling" meant she would break down. Not the crying, laying in bed kind of breaking down, but the full blown punching walls, ripping your hair out, tearing at your clothes, your flesh, finding a tight corner to lay down and beat the thoughts from your head kind of breaking down . She literally didn't have the tools to handle emotions. And where Christophe simply held a firm grip on his or ignored them all together, Jacky needed an outlet.

He knew she'd cared about Anette, but he didn't know it was to this degree.

"Oui." Was all he said before standing up. He looked down at Anette one last time. He'd have to make sure to give her a proper burial after this was over. Cayden looked over his shoulder at them as he slammed the butt of his gun down in the face of the monster that was gripping his head, trying to twist it so it could break his neck. Or rip out a chunk of it. Christophe simply shook his head, then jerked it in the direction of Anette's still decomposing body.

Cayden looked down and grimaced, then flipped the gun around and shot the monster still gripping at him in it's already crushed in face, sending the head snapping back and the body following suit to fall on the ground, and spattering his own face with blood. He calmly wiped it off, then crossed to Ryu. He passed him a look, and in silent understanding, they both began cutting through the somehow only slightly diminished crowd, heading slowly toward Damien. Christophe followed suit, Jacky already ahead of him, cutting down monster after monster in any way she could. The anger flowing through her took over her physical exhaustion, fueling her to keep going. To keep killing. She knocked an impeeding body to the ground, then slammed her foot onto it's face, breaking in the entire right side with the heavy short heel of her boot. She took only a second to examine the crushed eye socket, the nose that was now pointing to the left, the cheek bone that was a black and angry red, amazing Jacky that there was enough blood left to turn it that color. She smiled satisfactorily before picking up a nearby discarded rifle, and stabbing it through the chest cavity with the narrow barrel, then continuing on her way.

Christophe followed behind, killing where necessary, his grief turning into rage, a burning need to kill Damien for taking her away from him. He couldn't let himself be weak now. This had to end. Cartman saw Jacky flying toward him with new purpose and nudged Craig who was in the process of beating a monster senseless that had made contact with Tweek.

"What!" He snapped, turning to Cartman. Cartman jerked his head in Jacky's direction and Craig looked confused until he saw where she was headed. His expression cleared and he nodded. He nudged Tweek and they started making their way forward.

XXXXXXXX

Kenny was exhausted. Mentally and physically. He had to rely almost completely on Kevin to make the kills, because no matter how hard he pushed himself, every small move he did was torture. His eyes burned, his body and mind felt heavy, every muscle in his body was beginning to scream at him with fatigued disuse. Fuck, he couldn't last much longer.

Kenny glanced at his brother and saw his obvious fatigue, then he glanced at Damien simply standing a few feet away from him, grinning arrogantly, the self-righteous bastard. He could end this all now. Damien was only a few feet away.

Kevin looked up, saw Kenny staring intently at Damien, and scowled. "No."

"What?" Kenny asked, barely managing to fight off the monster that had taken his attention away from his grinning target. Kevin managed to give him a droll stare.

"You can't take him alone and you know it."

"I'm running out of options, Kevin!" Kenny snapped at him. Before his brother could say more to stop him, Kenny forced his exhausted and aching body forward, through the massive horde, focusing on one thing as he grappled and fought with the bodies impeding him. He heard Kevin shout something at him, but he couldn't hear what it was. As he slowly advanced on Damien, he saw the others doing the same from the other side of the roof, Jacky proceeding faster than the others, her face a mask of unhinged rage.

Damien watched the others, grin still in place, then when Kenny was just a few feet away, he turned his head slowly to him, as if just realizing he was there. His grin widened.

Kenny felt the surface beneath him start to shake, the same loud rumbling from before reverberating from somewhere deep beneath them. Large chunks of plaster and shingles began to crack and break, falling into his house and lawn. Everyone was yelling something, but he couldn't hear them. He could only hear the rumbling.

He heard a loud crack and spine-chilling scraping noise beneath him and looked down. Cracks were forming around him on all sides, outlining a chunk of roof that almost perfectly encompassed him. The scraping noise sounded again, and part of the surface beneath him slid down, causing Kenny to lurch forward, almost falling as he fought to keep his balance.

"Shit, shit, _shit!"_ He yelled, trying desperately to get out of the way, but the thick mass of bodies surrounding him prevented him from moving more than an inch. Panic set in as the slate beneath him shifted again, bringing him painfully to his knees. A few bodies landed on top of him, forcing him onto his stomach. It was then that the smell hit him. The hot, sticky, putrid, thick smell of rotting flesh. It was nauseating and heavy, and he was amazed he could even smell it through his broken nose. The stench washed over him in stifling waves.

The added weight on top of him was what did it. Kenny watched as the world seemed to slow around him, the heavy slab of roof under him giving way into darkness below him, taking him and the reeking bodies on top of him with it. His stomach ascended to his throat and he knew he was yelling, but he couldn't hear himself over the deafening sound of air as it whooshed past his ears. He watched, terrified, as the floor of his parent's bedroom rose up to meet him, then his world went black.

XXXXXXXX

The first thing Kenny was aware of was that his nose throbbed and ached, as did the back of his head and his back. Everything was still black, he couldn't register any sounds around him….there was nothing. Something heavy was on his back and he realized his eyes were closed. He grudgingly opened his eyes, heavy and burning with the want to stay closed. His vision was temporarily blurred, but after about a minute, his surroundings came into focus.

"The…fuck..?" He croaked out. He was in his room. On his stomach. On his floor. His room looked untouched, as if the last few hours had never happened. All the tools Cartman had picked up earlier rested against his wall, forgotten in their haste to get out of his room and away from the monsters.

He turned his head a little to the side and saw that no one was with him. His brother, who had only been a few feet away, was nowhere to be seen. He tilted his head as far up as he could, ignoring the painful protest from his nose, and as far as he could tell, the ceiling was untouched. No cracks, no pieces missing…

"The fuck is going on?" He mused quietly to himself as he turned his head to see what was on his back. It wasn't the bodies he'd fallen with. Somehow the piece of plaster he'd been on top of was now on _him_. He carefully pushed himself up a bit and managed to push the slate off him. He was again made aware of his head throbbing, and reached a hand back to touch it. His hair was matted and crusted with something. When he pulled his hand back, little flecks of dried blood clung to his fingers.

"Fuck." He was surprised he wasn't dead yet, with all the blood he seemed to have lost. He shakily stood up, his entire body protesting every move, and gingerly looked around. Everything was…normal, and yet that in itself was a complete aberration. He carefully crossed the room to his door, pausing to stare at it, half expecting something to burst through it. When nothing did, he reached for the handle.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. You won't like what's out there." An amused voice warned behind him. Kenny whirled around to find Damien standing behind him, hands in the pockets of his jacket, smirking as if nothing had happened.

"Motherfucker." Kenny snarled and moved to lunge at him, wrap his hands around his throat, anything. Yet, somehow he couldn't. His perception was weirdly off, he felt strange….lighter than normal, like he was trying to rise from his body, and he seemed to have a weird form of tunnel vision. His whole body felt shaky, and yet he wasn't shaking. He tried to focus on the smirking Damien, who's expression was calm save for his eyes, electrified with the same sick excitement he'd expressed earlier.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" He snarled, trying to punch his tormentor, who easily side-stepped, tsking at the futility Kenny refused to realize.

"You've lost a lot of blood, Kenny. Of all people, I'd have thought _you'd_ remember what that feels like." He replied mockingly.

"Fuck you." Was the sole simple expletive Kenny's exhausted mind would let him release as it focused on trying to get control of his debilitating visual handicap and limps that didn't seem to want to cooperate. Damien laughed. That grating laugh that sent chills down Kenny's spine. He was almost certain Damien had perfected that laugh just to annerve Kenny.

"All in good time." Came Damien's smug reply. Again, Kenny tried to punch him, but he swung widely and missed. Damien laughed again, and suddenly Kenny found himself with his back against his bedroom wall, held there by something intangible. He struggled weakly against it, but couldn't break free.

"What the fuck is this?" Kenny asked, glaring at Damien. Ignoring his question, grinned a sinister grin. One that sent more chills down Kenny's spine. He decided to change directions. "Where's my brother? Where the hell is everyone else?" Damien only grinned wider, which incensed Kenny.

"What the fuck did you do with my brother?" He yelled. Damien's grin faded slightly, as if irritated that Kenny didn't seem to find the same humor in the situation that he did, and snapped his fingers, one arm crossed over his chest, the opposing elbow resting on his hand, a sure display that his entertained mood was slipping. Immediately after the gesture, the form of Kevin materialized in the bedroom, propped against the bed to the right of them.

"Kevin!" Kenny yelled, straining desperately against the invisible restraints again until he got a good look at his brother; He was motionless, bloodied and the way he sat reminded Kenny of a sack of potatoes propped against a counter. His eyes and mouth were open, a fine trail of dried blood trailing from the corner of his mouth to his chin, his head resting against the bed, turned sideways, away from them.

"Kevin? Kevin!" Kenny yelled, hoping to god his brother was just unconscious in some way, or too weak to respond.

"He's dead Kenny." The grin was back. That insensitive fuck.

"He's _NOT_ dead!" Kenny yelled angrily, as if yelling it would make it not true. The grin curled upward.

"They're all dead." As he finished his sentence, the bodies of the others appeared in his room, all mangled in various states, limbs torn off or skulls crushed in, some had their eyes open, Tweek's eyes had been gauged out, Craig's midsection ripped out, the gaping whole displaying his ribs and punctured lung in a grotesque artistic display, Jacky's skull had caved in, her eyeball hanging out and dangling against her cheek, held in place by the optic nerve still barely attached…

Kenny looked away, beginning to feel nauseous at the sight, then saw Damien standing there, looking very much like a child who'd done something to be proud of. "You sonovabitch!" He snarled venomously.

"Why, because all your friends are dead?" Damien humored him in a mildly scolding voice, much as a mother would when her child injured himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kevin listened to the conversation taking place, wishing desperately that he could speak, move, anything to indicate he was alright. He felt no pain from what he assumed must be fatal wounds, but instead a persistent tingling in the areas the wounds were located. He inwardly cringed at the agonized pain in Kenny's voice as he called out to Kevin, thinking him dead. Only Cartman was in his line of vision, and as Kevin couldn't turn his head to see the others, he could only assume they must be a grisly sight. He also assumed that they were in the same state as he. Helplessly listening to what was going on around

"Because my _brother_'s dead, you asshole!" Kenny choked back the tears constricting his throat. "My brother…my best friends…." he continued in a low murmur, talking more to himself now as he tried to calm himself. Damien continued to smirk, his eyes now electrified with renewed excitement. This moment. This right here was what Damien had been waiting for. The weeks of haunting, torture, sleep and food deprivation…they were finally taking their final toll on Kenny. He could try to keep the crumbling walls up, but Damien knew he was broken. Utterly and completely. It was a heady feeling.

"He died for you, you know." Damien said almost dryly, simply wanting to add fuel to the fire.

"Shut up." Kenny growled, trying to convince himself it wasn't true.

"They all died for you." Damien continued, ignoring Kenny. "If you'd just come with me the first time, none of this would have happened."

"Shut up!" Kenny warned sharply. Again, Damien continued.

"Your best friends wouldn't have been injured and killed, you wouldn't have been responsible for the death of that poor girl, your brother wouldn't have died…no one would have put their lives on the line for you. Your brother wouldn't be dead, Kenny."

"SHUT UP!" Kenny yelled, the guilt overwhelming, the tears finally falling as he hung his head, trying to hide his weakness from Damien. Damien, however, stepped toward him and lifted his chin up so he could see the full effects of his inflicted torment. He grinned at the sight. His eyes glittered, exhilarated with wicked intend as he leaned in close to Kenny's face, eyes locked on Kenny's and murmured lowly.

"You killed your brother, Kenny. He's never coming back and it's your fault. What will you do without your big brother now?"

"Fuck you!" The tears fell harder, despite the words that had turned venomous in response to Damien's mild and falsely sympathetic tone. Kevin could sense what Kenny was going to do and silently begged him to come to his senses. To not say the words he was about to. _Please, no. Don't do it Kenny. No!_

"My brother's gone…my friends are gone….I have nothing to live for…." His blue eyes pierced Damien's with the same intensity Damien's held. And yet, beneath that was also a tired surrender. "You win, Damien. You fucking win. Congratulations, you finally broke me. Please, just end my suffering." Although his voice was steady and determinedly resolved, the desperation was palpable. The agony, the need, all of it was there. Everything Damien wanted.

"Finally." Damien practically purred in a low mutter. Kenny waited for him to kill him, but he didn't. He just held Kenny's chin up to look at him as he grinned triumphantly. Kenny was about to ask him why the fuck he wasn't dead yet when something strange began happening to Damien's face.

It began to turn gray. Kenny's quickened breath caught in his throat and his watched in horror as the flesh tightened. It turned a purple color and appeared waxy. His lips turned white, still curled upward. His eyes began to retreat into is head, as his skin turned from purple to a sickening greenish blue color. Blisters formed on his face, then burst, corroding holes into his skin. Kenny gagged as the heavy smell of rotting flesh filled his nostrils. The holes in Damien's face began to spread and deepen, revealing the muscles and tendons in his face.

The smile widened grotesquely as the flesh around his mouth receded, melting away as if acid had been poured on it and was eating away the flesh. His teeth showed through the widening, rotting holes in a frightening mockery. The skin continued to ebb away, along with the muscles until only his skull was left, tainted red with the small amount of remaining blood. The same happened to the hand gripping Kenny's chin. Kenny shivered and jolted in repulsion at the nauseating feeling of the skin against his corroding and bursting, leaving his chin feeling slimy and wet. Then, as suddenly as it had happened, it stopped. All the flesh, the hair reappeared as they had been before, Damien's lips still curled up into that smile.

He gripped Kenny's face in his hands and leaned in, his smile twisting up even more as he hungrily crushed his lips to Kenny's. Kenny emitted a shocked gasp that quickly turned into a horrified scream as the process began to recur. As Damien's face began to pale and purple, Kenny felt Damien's tongue push past his lips, uninhibited due to Kenny's shock.

Kenny began struggling fiercely against his invisible restraints. He could feel the skin dissolve from Damien's lips, tongue and hands, could taste the sickening putrefaction of rotting flesh as he watched on, unable to look away from the abhorrent sight. The taste filled his mouth, it hovered there, like the stuffy air around a rotting corpse. He desperately wanted to exhale, to release the taste from his mouth, but instead, it seemed to stick in his throat and choke him. He felt the bile rise in his throat.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kevin watched in horror. Even though he was only able to see a little bit of Damien, it was enough. He wanted to retch but couldn't. The sight and smell was overwhelming. This was entirely different from what they'd just witnessed on the roof. This was….repugnant. Disturbing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kenny froze as he felt a strange sensation emanating from where his lips were still connected to Damien's. His skin grew hot. It was burning. Kenny screamed into Damien's mouth again. His skin was literally being seared from his face. It felt like someone had set his face on fire. The sensation traveled along his face, he flesh receding, the blood pouring then almost instantaneously drying and withdrawing. When it reached his eyes, everything went dark, and Kenny could feel his eyes being pulled back into the socket, the skin around them continuing to sear away. _Make it end! Make it stop, please!" _He moaned pathetically in is head, his body beginning to shake and convulse, the violent tremors almost sending him to the floor. Damien's arm snaked almost lazily around his waist to keep him from falling, and instead, Kenny felt himself being lowered to the floor, Damien's arm guiding him down, all the while, Damien's lips were ever present.

He was lain on his side, his torso on something warm that he had to assume was Damien's lap, Damien's arm sliding up from around his waist to loop around his back to his shoulder, keeping him partially upright while the excruciating process continued. Kenny momentarily choked on his own blood when it flowed freely from his throat before drying up. As the burning traveled lower, Kenny began to draw short, panicked breaths.

"Please, Damien…" Kenny rasped feebly against his lips, desperately willing this last torture to stop. He felt Damien smirk, and instead of stopping, the process quickened. It reached his lungs and he choked again, unable to draw a breath, which panicked him more into trying to draw more breaths, hands immediately flying to Damien's jacket, grasping as he frantically tried to take a breath.

Damien watched, delighted as Kenny struggled and grasped at him, the process continuing it's way down Kenny's body. His eyes glittered in exultation as Kenny's grip weakened until his hands slipped from his jacket. He looked over at Kevin with a look that said "I win" before he began to fade, taking Kenny's lifeless body with him.

As Damien faded, whatever had been cast upon Kevin was lifted. He immediately sprang from his seat, lunging toward Damien, but his fingers closed only on empty air.

"NO!" He screamed in frustration, in anger, in overwhelming pain. The other watched, too shocked to move save for Christophe. He got up and crossed to Kevin, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. We failed 'im." Christophe said, voice thick with unexpected remorse.

"He's gone…..Kenny's really gone for good….I couldn't save him….I couldn't…" He trailed off, unable to finish as grief overtook him. He gripped his hair, leaning forward on his knees and letting out a long, anguished cry. Christophe cringed, his own grief over Anette threatening to be remembered in Kevin's vulnerable state, something Christophe still couldn't afford to give in to. He motioned the others to follow him out of the room to give Kevin some peace while he mourned, looking away from the stricken faces of Kyle, Stan and Tweek, the somewhat shaken Craig, and the surprisingly subdued Cartman. Kevin didn't even hear them leave over his own distress.

"I'm so sorry, Kenny. I couldn't protect you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**I'm going to apologize for the entirety of this last chapter. I lost my motivation halfway through and I'm not happy with it at all. DXBUT OH MY GOD! IT'S THE LAST CHAPTER, YOU GUYS! This is the first time I've ever finished one of my stories that wasn't just a one-shot! I feel accomplished. XD**

**I want to give a special thanks to Perlenprinz for continuing to motivate me to get these out, and for being a wonderful conversational companion. I was able to discuss my views on gore, horror and other things of variety with someone who it seems owns the other half of my brain. XD And for that, my dear, I wholeheartedly thank you, and hope we can continue having amazing conversations! :D**

**I also want to thank apatur4iris over on DA for agreeing to draw a picture for my story! Lol, it took a surprising amount of courage for me to ask her, and she was so nice and awesome! Thank you so much! I'll post a link to it in the 'author's notes' of my next story when she puts it up on DA.**

**And don't worry you guys, there won't be any large fight scenes involving lots of people in the next story because I know I'm shit at them. XD But! The next story is going to chronicle Kevin's grief following Kenny's death and….certain things are going to happen to him. XD I have big, big plans for the next story, so I hope you continue to read! :D**

**And last but not least, I want to thank my friend Jordan for being my SP buddy and for reading my story. He loves gore probably more than I do, and I know he enjoyed this because he's a huge Kenny fan like me. XD Thanks Sonny! I'm sad you had to go back to Arizona, but I'm so glad to have met you! Hope to see you at Banzai! You better be there, bro! XD**

**Also, I'm always looking for new music to write to, so if you have any suggestions, please feel free to pm me or write some in a review! **

**And also, I'll hopefully post those pics of Jacky and Anette…sometime this year. XD I'll put links in the next story when I do get them up. XD**

**Music for this chapter**

**Civil Twilight**

Fire escape

Teardrop

**Example**

Changed the way you kiss me

**Florence and the Machine**

Breath of life

**Interpartysystem**

Don't stop

Obsession

**Jane's Addiction**

Twisted tales

**Korn**

Narcissistic cannibal

**Machinae Supremacy**

Indiscriminate murder is counter-productive [Seriously, this song. XD So jaunty for a song about killing.]

Crouching camper

Gimme more

Ninja

**My Darkest Days**

Casual sex

Save yourself

Nature of the beast

Set in on fire

**Natalia Kills**

Love is suicide

Break you hard

Mirrors

**Porcelain Black**

This is what rock 'n roll looks like

Swallow my bullet

Prisoner

**Ratatat**

Lex

**Silent Hill Downpour**

Intro perk walk

**Skillet**

Never surrender

**Utada Hikaru**

Dirty desires


End file.
